















j-"-^ 

























^*<f' <*^ -*? **Jm^> ^ v" ***** ^\ a? 






./.- 


















" V* # \/ .*2fck ^ 

^v 6* & ° " • * **C 












Kl C IRE LAME 



>( 



IP- 



E) T 



J&. M. i 



ILMSTlATIBo 



^^ S; r $, 





£& 








j^5i& &^£i 


1 


■ ^ j^SS^^j^^^^feypy^ 


~^ ifi 


■' . : \ ..-j, : ■'.',■■ . 


I |f 




cllf'jlr 










I IE S x FERDINAND 



EI STREET. 



THE FRENCH METROPOLIS. 



PARIS; 



AS SEEN DURING THK 



SPARE HOURS OF A MEDICAL STUDENT. 



AUGUSTUS KINSLEY GARDNER, M.D. 



The use of travelling is to regulate imagination by reality ; and, instead of thinking 
how things may be, to see them as they are. Johnson. 

The moment that you anticipate your pen in forming a sentence, you get as stiff as 
a gentleman in stays ; I use my pen as my horse : I guide it, and it carries me on. 

D'Israeli. 



SECOND EDITION. 



REVISED, AND ILLUSTRATED BY TWENTY FINE STEEL ENGRAVINGS, 
BY HEATH AND OTHERS. 




NEW-YORK: 

C. S. FRANCIS & CO., 252 BROADWAY. 

boston: 
j. h. francis, 128 washington-street. 

1 850. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847, 

BY. C. S. FRANCIS & CO., 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New-York. 



Printed by 
MUNROE & FRANCIS 
BOSTON. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

Dedication, -- __.-.... m 
Preface, ...... xi 

i. 

Diary at Sea— Arrival at Havre — Custom-House Agreeabflities — 

Ancorville and its Gardens, -. 1 

ii. 
Traveling in France — Rouen — Paris, ------ 8 

in. 
Latin Quarter — Hospital of Hotel-Dieu, ------ 18 

IV. 

Catholic Religion — French Hospitals — Hotel-Dieu — Nuns — Hospital 

Practice — Mons. Blandin — Dr. Mott, of New- York, 22 

v. 
Bal Masque, ---■ 27 

VI. 

Condition of Women — Hair Market at Caen — Bourgeois Party- 
Funerals of the Rich and the Poor, - 32 

VII. 

Musard — Mardi-Gras — Pere Goriot — Louis Philippe — Bastringues 
— Traiteurs — Feasts — Fasts — Clergy — Confessions — Order of the 
" Holy Cross," 38 

VIII. 

Weather — Fuel — Poor — Grand Opera — Viennese Dancing Girls — 
Carlotta Grisi — Duchess d'Aumale — Princess and Prince de Join- 
ville — Persiani — Mario — Julia Grisi, 44 

IX. 

Love of Country — Danger of Assassination — Tapis-Francs — Preva- 
lence of Crime — The Morgue — Henri Herz — Concert of Sixteen 
Pianos and Thirty-two Players — Priests — Midwifery — Artificial 

Arm, -50 

x. 

Fashions — Birth-Day of Washington— Ball of the American Minister 

— Expenses of the Embassy — Ball of the Cafe Tortoni, 56 

XI. 

The Prado — New-Year's Day — Greetings in Private Life — To Mili- 
tary Officers of the National Guard — To the King, by Fifteen 
Hundred Drummers ! — Champs Elysees — Place Concorde— Obe- 
lisk of Luxor — Goat Carriages — Learned Dogs — Punch and 

Judy, - - 62 

5 



VI CONTENTS. 

xn. 

Further Account of the Hotel-Dieu — Roux — Chomel — Magendie — 
Ecole Pratique d'Anatomie — Museum of Dupuytren — Shocking 
Effects of Secret Vice, .-.---.-67 

XIII. 

French Politeness — Etiquette — Necessary Expenses of Living — Cost 

of Various Articles of Dress, - - - - - - -71 

XIV. 

Medical Officers in French Hospitals — In American Hospitals — Rea- 
son of the Difference in their Characters — System of Concours — 
Sketch of Velpeau's Life and Person, ----- 77 

xv. 
The Grisette — Lorette — Fille Publique — H&pital Lourcine — Mons. 
Hugier — Hopital du Midi — Ricord — Disgusting Effects of Cer- 
tain Diseases — American Students, ------ 83 

XVI. 

Gobelin Manufactory of Tapestry and Carpets — Insane Hospital " La 

Salpetriere," for Aged and Poor Women, ----- 88 

XVII. 

Superstition — Holy Relics — Michelet — Felicien David — His Concert 
— Fete of Long Champs—Gen. Tom Pouce — Time and Place for 
Making Fashions — Conservatoire Royal de Musique — Its Concert 
— Madame Dorus-Gras, 93 

XVIII. 

Common Schools — Colleges — Liberty — M. Michelet — Prisons — The 
Depot de La Prefecture de Police — The Conciergerie — Marie 
Antoinette, -- --99 

XIX. 

Prisons of Paris — St. Lazare — An Actress off the Stage — Filles Pub- 

liques — Debtors' Prison, -- 109 

xx. 
Place de la Bastille — Column of July — Hotel de Ville — Palm Sunday 

— Education — Louvre — Relics — Horse Market — Thiers, - - 117 

XXI. 

English — Washing Establishment — St. Sulpice — The " Swiss " — 

Chamber of Peers — Traits in French Character, ... 123 

XXII. 

Arc de Triomphe — Wall of Paris — Duke of Orleans — His Death and 

Mausoleum — Consequences — Successor to Louis Philippe, - 129 

XXIII. 

Exhibition of Flowers and Fruit — Love of Flowers — Flower Girls- 
Horse Races — Auber — War between England and America, - 135 

XXIV. 

Prisons of Paris — St. Pelagie — La Force — Nouvelle Force — Its Sin- 
gular Construction — Maison Centrale d'Education Correction- 
nelle — Remarkable Form and Peculiar Discipline - - - 141 



CONTENTS. 



Methods of getting a living among the Poor — Bread — Chiffoniers — 

Dogs, - 147 

XXVI. 

Hopital La Charite — Gerdy— Andral — Rayer — Cruveilhier — Fou- 
quier — Bouillard — Course of Medical Study in Paris and Amer- 
ica compared — Importance of a Special Attention to a Single 
Branch — Difficulties of American Physicians — The French and 
American Practitioner contrasted — American Students at Paris, 156 

XXVII. 

Celebration of the King's Birth-Day, - 165 

XXVIII. 

Versailles — The Palace — Its Cost — Desecration in 1792 — Its Resto- 
ration by Louis Philippe — Its Embellishments, Pictures, and 
Statues — Napoleon as he Lives on the Canvas — Effects of these 
Paintings on a Spectator, 176 

XXIX. 

Pictures, Coins, &c, in the Palace at Versailles — Chapel — Louis XIV. 
— Opera Room — Grand Gallery of Glass — Fountains — Parterre 
d'Eau — Ancient Orange Tree — Bassin de Neptune — Fountain of 
Latona — Chariot of the Sun — Bassin d'Encelade — Bosquet des 
Bassins d'Apoilon — Bassinsdes Enfans — America and her Artists, 183 

XXX. 

Grand Trianon — Little Trianon — Private Apartments — French Gar- 
dens — Cooper, the Pioneer American Novelist — Freedom of the 
Press, 190 

XXXI. 

Prison des Jeunes Detenus — Results of the Solitary System — Depot 
de Condamnes — Personal Appearance of the Convicts — The Face 
an Index of Character — Employments, Privileges, and Manners 
of the Prisoners — The Sympathising Turnkey, - 195 

XXXII. 

The Clinique — Nelaten — Midwifery — Paul Dubois — Hospital for 
Orphans — Sisters of Charity — Private Lecturers — Chassaignac — 
Cazeaux — Longet — Chailly — Breschet — Lamartine — His Speech 
on the Removal of Napoleon's Body — Rumor of his Visit to this 
Country — Manner of Treating Foreigners of Distinction, - - 202 

XXXIII. 

Spring — French Mothers and Children — Squares in Paris — Their 
Great Utility — Thalberg — His Concert — Motion not Music — 
Spontini, the Composer, - - - - - - - -210 

XXXIV. 

Coste on Embryology — Party at Mr. D.'s — Donne's Lectures on the 
Circulation of the Blood — Oxygen and Hydrogen Microscope — 
Photo-Electric Microscope — English Episcopal Church — Palais- 
Royal — Healey, the Painter — Veterinary School — Scientific 
Cruelty to Horses, 216 



XXXV. 

Comparison of the Parisian and American Prisons — Society for the 
Aid of Boys quitting the House of Correction — Society for the 
Aid of Abandoned Girls leaving the House of Correction, - 223 

xxxvi. 
Church at St. Denis — The Sepulchre of the French Sovereigns — 

Tomb of, Lafayette — Pere la Chaise, 230 

XXXVII. 

Royal Institution of the Deaf and Dumb — Abbe deL'Epee — Sicard — 
Royal Institution for the Blind — Artesian Well at Grenelle — 
Comparison of the Royal Institution for the Blind, and the Asy- 
lum for the Blind at South Boston — Thomas Handasyd Perkins, 242 

XXXVIII. 

Rachel — Her Performance in Virginius — Execution by the Guillo- 
tine — Jardin des Plantes — Governor of Coney Island — Military 
Music— The King— Count de Paris, ------ 252 

XXXIX. 

The Garden of Plants— School of Botany — Menagerie — Men and 

Monkeys — Beneficial Effects from Alcohol, ... - 264 

XL. 

Hopital de la Pitie — Lisfranc — Velpeau — Louis — Bourgeois Marriage 
and Wedding Festivities — The Two Milliners — A Tender-heart- 
ed Lawyer, 274 

XLI. 

How do you like Paris ? — Style of the Buildings— Fires — Fire De- 
partment — Water — Common Sewers, ----- 281 

XLII. 

Answer to " How do you like Paris?" concluded — Religion — Cook- 
ery — Utility of a Temporary Residence in Paris, - 287 

XLIII. 

Flower Markets — The Pantheon— Paintings by Gros — Tombs of Vol- 
taire, Rousseau, Lagrange, and others, 295 

XLIV. 

Mint — Repugnance to the Use of Steam Power by Government — 
Gregory XVI. — Cabinet of Coins — Medals— Jewelers — Academy 
of Industry, 302 

XLV. 

Chaumiere — Mons, Coste — Fourierites — La Democratie Pacifique — 
Mons. Bureau and Family — Frederika Bremer — Prof. Longfel- 
low — Observatory — Mons. Arago, 309 

XLVI. 

Hopital de Bicetre, and its Occupants — The Morgue, - - - 317 

XLVII. 

Royal Lunatic Hospital — Dr. Foville — Price of Board — Treatment — 
Curious Practice in a part of France — Pyramidal Heads — Flat 
Heads — Blockheads — 111 Treatment of Infants — New- Jersey 
Hospital for the Insane — Departure from Paris, - - - - 324 



TO 

PAUL DUBOIS, 

CHEVALIER OF THE LEGION OF HONOR; PROFESSOR OF THE PARIS FACULTY OK 
MEDICINE; MEMBER OF THE ACADEMY OF MEDICINE, PARIS; CHIRURG-IEN ACCOUCHEUR 
TO THE HOPITAL DES CLINIftUES AND THE MAISON D'ACCOCCHEMENT, ETC., 

THROUGH WHOSE KINDNESS, A GREAT OPPORTUNITY 

FOR PROFESSIONAL IMPROVEMENT WAS AFFORDED HIM, 

THIS WORK 

IS GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED 
BY 
THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



The Letters, comprising the present volume, were written in Paris 
to the Editor of the Newark Daily Advertiser, in which print they were 
originally published. The commendation, which they received at the 
time from the newspaper press throughout the country, has encouraged 
the issue of them in this form. 

Though the writer's residence in the French metropolis was designed for 
his improvement in medical science, ne deemed it not incompatible with 
this great object to make himself familiar with the language and charac- 
teristics of the great and interesting people, with whom he was sojourn- 
ing, and whom we ourselves resemble, in some respects, perhaps, more 
than any other nation. And he felt, in communicating his own impres- 
sions to the public, and his friends at home, that he was making the for- 
mer the participators of his acquisitions — such as they were ; and the latter, 
of some of his pleasures ; while, at the same time, the evanescent forms of a 
multitude of objects and events obtained " a habitation and a name" in 
his memory, by being daguerreotyped in the very moment of their van- 
ishing away forever. 

Hastily prepared, as these letters were, immediately on returning from 
the scenes described, with a body fatigued, and an excited brain, they 
were evidently unfit for publication, without considerable revision. This 

11 



211 PREFACE. 

was performed by the author's father, Samuel J. Gardner, Esq., to whos© 
care and talents is due much of the credit which they have received. 

After all, no one must be so unreasonable, as to look for new discoveries 
in a city, which has become the paradise of travelers, with their hundred 
eyes and tongues. All, that now remains possible, is to observe the 
changes of the social kaleidoscope, and copy the old materials, as they 
group themselves in new attitudes and forms. Such is the characteristic 
of the book, as its title was intended to express. 

Save an occasional explanatory paragraph, the letters are now re- 
printed from the columns of the newspaper, without change. Much 
as they would be benefited by a revisal, the author has shrunk from a 
labor, which would interfere too much with his daily professional duties. 

A. K. G. 

New- York, November. 1847 



OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 



Diary at Sea — Arrival at Havre — Custom House Agreeabihties — 
Ancorville and its Gardens. 

At Sea, October 6th, 

'T is a week since my departure from New York, and I rejoice 
to be on deck again, able to write you a few lines, with a horrible 
nausea, however, still upon me. 

Tuesday, 8th October. Lat. 41° 45'. 

A fresh attack of sickness sent me below, and, in addition, 
heavy gales have since rendered it useless to attempt to write. 
Yesterday morning I saw a very beautiful rainbow, apparently 
only a few rods from the ship, spanning an entire arch. I 
remembered the old proverb, but the day proved beautiful not- 
withstanding. On Friday last, a sudden squall of wind and rain 
struck and nearly capsized us. Three men at the wheel, the 
captain being one, could not move it for some moments. All 
hands were soon on deck, and the sails were rapidly and success- 
fully clewed up, taken in, reefed, &c, and the danger was past ; 
soon all was fair again. On Sunday night the captain was 
taken severely sick, and I prescribed for him as well as my dizzi- 
ness would permit. The wind freshened into a gale and blew 
much harder than on the day I intended to have sailed. I went 
on deck several times, and beheld the beauty and grandeur of 
the waves. 

1 



OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



After the wind had been blowing a gale all day, toward night 
the sea was literally mountainous ; nor were the waves more 
remarkable for size, than color. Just as they broke, their dark 
blue changed to — what shall I call it ? — another shade of blue, 
perhaps, but so indescribably resplendent and dazzling, that I 
am convinced the sublime pencil of Titian himself never caught 
so celestial a tint. To-day a large hawk, perhaps an eagle, 
lighted for some minutes on our yards, but, as if in derision of 
our white canvass, soon spread his wings, and sailed around 
and off. 

Friday. Lat. 41° 54' Long. 45° 25'. 

Several days, you see, are passed since I last wrote, and I 
cannot perceive that I am any nearer the promised land, than 
before. The captain jocosely remarks, that we are now about 
"half seas over," and then — "what then?" as Sterne says. 
We have an excellent captain, crew and ship. 

Sunday, 13th. — How tiresome is a sea life ! I cannot conceive, 
how a bustling yankee can ever get inured to it. 

Tuesday, 2 2d Oct. — While you are imagining me near my port 
of destination, I am, on the contrary, many hundred miles away, 
viz: in long. 18° lat. 43° 5'. We have had, since I last wrote, 
a succession of squally weather and head winds, &c. It seems 
to me, that there is but one place, to which I desire to go suffi- 
ciently to make another voyage, and that is — Home. Methinks 
I shall have grey hairs before I see France. 

" A life on the ocean wave, and a home on the rolling deep," 
is very good poetry, but to my taste an indifferent sort of house- 
keeping. " The cloud-kissing waves," and the " foam-crested 
sea," one may imagine to look very pretty, but — when the waves 
kiss the clouds, because the latter stoop to the embrace, and 
when the bowels of the spectator yearn, not with sympathy and 
tenderness, but sea-sickness — 't is quite a different matter. 

Sunday, 27th. — Doubtless you are figuring to yourselves my 
occupation in Paris ; but, alas, I am yet many a mile distant. 
The smart S. W. winds, which have blown for the last two days 
have buoyed us along the Scilly Isles. Last evening the wind 



ARRIVAL AT HAVRE. 



changed to S. E. by E. which entirely prevents our entering 
the Channel, and here we lie, beating about with a heavy sea, in 
the company of several vessels. I have been amused during the 
last week in watching some porpoises gamboling around our 
ship ; and this morning was wet through while standing on deck, 
by the spray from a wave, which broke against our side. 

Wednesday. — Last evening spoke a London packet, who will 
probably report us. The English far-famed fog envelops us 
closely. A very heavy rolling sea causes a return of sickness. 

Saturday evening, Nov. 2d. — Still in the Channel — wind yet 
ahead — over 33 days out. Last night it blew the heaviest gale 
we have had yet, and we had a lee shore. Butter, potatoes and 
fresh provisions long ago gone. Shall we ever get in? The 
Lord only knows. 

Saturday, Nov. 3d. — This is truly a fine day, though it has 
snowed, and the heavens are filled with clouds, and the weather 
very cold ; for I have seen land — the pilot is on board — and to- 
morrow, (what a blessed word to-morrow is !) I shall go on 
shore ! The St. Nicholas, being one day ahead, has been in port 
eight days, having entered the Channel just before we were blown 
off. My fingers and feet are covered with chilblains, and my red 
nose projects fiercely through my mustache and beard. 

Wednesday, 6th. — Havre, where I arrived last evening at five 
p. m. still retains me. Sunday morning we arrived in the Roads, 
and there we lay till last evening, as the water was not high 
enough for the ship to enter the dock gates. 

After so long a period spent on ship-board, one could almost 
find happiness on a barren island. A ship has been compared to 
many things — I would give it the title of menagerie, for besides 
whales, porpoises and sharks, you see strange beasts there, 
which, though inferior in size, do not affect the feelings less. 
Such is the bed-bug, " the red rover of the sea," and the more 
agile flea, which always swarm in cotton laden ships. Both are 
rare " phlebotomizers." The little dark weevil finding his kingdom 
in the crevices of the ship-bread " taken from him and given to a 
stranger," flies for his life, as you raise it to your lips. To these 
one soon becomes accustomed as well as to the rats, who nightly 



OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



open avenues through your clothes to the dainty crumb concealed 
in some of their folds. Sea- sickness may be enjoyed a fortnight 
together on your back, and also a sudden translation from the 
berth to the middle of the cabin floor, as the ship may chance 
to take a sudden lurch — when they are over. 

We must leave these things, however pleasant in the recollec- 
tion, and observe the ship, as she enters the dock. Sunday 
morning, we arrived in the Roads, and there we lay till last even- 
ing, as the water was not high enough to enter the dock gates. 
These docks are but large basins of water confined by gates, not 
differing, except in magnitude, from those of our canals. The 
tide here rising and falling twenty feet, the rush of water other- 
wise would leave them exposed to danger from the bottom, when 
heavily laden, from its shallowness at ebb tide. Into this dock 
we rushed with all the speed, which a flood tide, a strong wind 
behind and a stronger swell from the Channel could give us. To 
the unaccustomed eye, we were in constant danger of running 
into the pier-head, whose massive buttresses project far into the 
sea, or the shipping moored along its sides. Fortunately, just as 
the danger seemed imminent, a hawser, apparently stretched by 
unknown hands, restrained our headlong course. The quay is 
crowded with people, whose uncouth garments divert the 
attention from the imaginary danger. 

The pier is the grand promenade for the city ; and ladies, 
soldiers, peasants — the whole community almost, are gathered 
there to witness the entrance of two large American ships and 
other smaller craft. We hastened from the ship to the hotel, 
fortunately escaping the search by the police, a fate which my 
trunk suffered most unmercifully the next morning. The numer- 
ous soldiery, who throng the city, seem to have little else to 
do, except poking into trunks and carpet bags, stirring up the 
dirty clothes, and snuffing every odor, while on the scent for tobac- 
co. The manufacture and sale of this noisome weed are a monopoly 
of the king, and the search is therefore very severe. Notwith- 
standing this, three thousand cigars were smuggled ashore in the 
following ingenious manner. Two carpet bags were obtained 
similar to one another. Both were carried to the custom house. 



ANCORVILLE AND ITS GARDENS. 



One contained the greater part, and the other a quarter box only. 
This last was openly displayed in the month of the bag and the 
duties promptly paid. Gulled by this stratagem the other was 
scarcely opened. At a subsequent period, a bearer of despatches 
to our embassy, covered the boxes with the yellowish paper, tied 
with red tape, sealed with numerous red wax seals, stamped 
with the eagle found on a half dollar, and thus passed some 
thousands of cigars, unquestioned, through the hands of those 
who did not know that on the American coat of arms, there were 
no " 50 cents " stamped at the bottom. 

I am at Wheeler's Hotel, a very comfortable house, where 
English is spoken, and have employed myself to-day in traversing 
the city, and noting its peculiarities ; the women, who are em- 
ployed in every menial service — scraping the streets — riding the 
little jackasses, behind two immense panniers, stuffed with all 
kinds of provisions — the peculiar shaped houses — dark and dirty, 
frequently seven and eight stories high. Linen bed clothes this 
season of the year are no addition to the warmth of their elastic 
beds. Fires are in general use, so cold it is. I shall leave for 
Rouen by the diligence day after to-morrow, the boat having 
ceased running. Found an agreeable companion in an English 
clergyman, who described the theatre to me, and a particular 
play with great fervor. Saw also this morning a funeral — a 
priest followed by a boy bearing a pine coffin covered with a 
black cloth, and a man following, probably the mourner, but who 
was gazing around with great unconcern. At eight p. m. a band of 
thirteen drummers marched through the streets, calling the 
soldiers to their quarters for the night. 

The city of Havre contains but little worthy of notice. The church 
of Notre Dame, the docks and the hospital, are the principal objects 
of interest. A building for a museum is now erecting. It is 
made of a soft native stone. The walls are made of the large 
pieces placed in proper order, but unhewn and almost shapeless. 
After these are erected, the stone is then worked and pillars are 
hammered out and ornamented with Corinthian capitals, &c. 

The village of Ancorville, separated from the city by a wall 
and moat, is the residence of the wealthy. It is situated on a 



OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



high bluff, commanding a fine view of the city proper, with the 
hay and river Seine stretching for several miles. The buildings 
are much finer than those in the city, though not pleasing to the 
American eye, accustomed to white houses and green blinds. 
They are built of half-burned brick, with walls nearly two feet 
in thickness, and covered with plaster of such a dingy color, that, 
noticing shavings, &c. around a house, it is difficult to tell, whether 
they are building a new or repairing an old one. The gardens, 
however, make up the deficiency. I visited several, one very 
splendid, belonging to Jeremiah Winslow, a Boston man. Its 
winding walks were ornamented by the immense ribs and vertebrae 
of the whale. Even at this late season, it was covered with flowers. 
Among them was the Bengal rose, which we call the double 
Dutch, similar to C.'s, growing in great profusion, full of blos- 
soms. It is left out of doors all winter, and blooms ten months 
in the year. The Laurestinus, too, with its fragrant flowers, 
resists the frosts of winter, uninjured. They are both fre- 
quently in bloom on Christmas. Rhododendrons, Cape Jes- 
samines, are evergreens. The far-famed Holly and Ivy are 
also abundant. The former has a very rich green leaf, scolloped, 
bearing on each point a thorn. I also visited a small private 
green-house, not very showy at present, and quite similar to 
our own. 

The soldiers stationed here number three hundred, and con- 
stitute the most striking objects of notice. They officiate as 
sentries, police, and custom house officers. Their uniform is in 
horrible taste. The only excuse for it is its alleged cheapness. 
They look, as if, roused from their slumbers by a fire in their own 
dwelling, they had seized the first clothing near them, and appear 
in scarlet flannel drawers, but partially concealed by a blue sur- 
tout. Such coat-tails must certainly impede locomotion. 

The antiquarian may hasten to see the old tower, so conspicuous 
as we enter, which the guide books say was the place where Ma- 
zarin confined the princes of Conde and Conti, and where Francis 
I. was entertained by the early inhabitants. He may pore over 
the falling stones, and pick up a rusty nail for a souvenir ; — my 



THE THEATRE— LA DAME BLANCHE. 



taste seeks rather for the living and breathing works of the pres- 
ent, than the dilapidated monuments of the past. 

After two days' experience, I find that I have less difficulty- 
each day in speaking the little French I have occasion for. I 
think I shall soon acquire it. To-morrow I shall visit the Hospi- 
tal, and at five dine with Mr. R. E., brother of G. B. E., of Bos- 
ton, to whom I had a letter, directed to Paris, whence he has 
lately arrived. You would be amused to see me walking about 
the streets, ever and anon consulting a small dictionary for aid in 
understanding some notice at the corners ; or, when asking the 
way, stopping to look out a word in the midst of my speech. 
The horses are of the large Normandy breed, much larger than 
the Pennsylvania horse ; I saw one to-day going apparently with 
much ease, drawing on a truck, like those at Boston, two hogs- 
heads of molasses and five boxes of sugar, a half of which in 
Boston is a load for two. 

11 o'clock. — I have just returned from the theatre, the old 
one was burnt, and this has been open but a fortnight ; I there- 
fore saw it in all its freshness. It is said to be a tasteful building, 
though small. " They did " the Opera of La Dame Blanche, 
with an orchestra of thirty-three instruments, played finely. The 
singing was not so good as I expected. I have postponed my 
departure for Rouen till Saturday morning, where I shall remain 
for three or four days, and then — for Paris. 



II. 

Travelling in France — Rouen — Paris. 

Leaving Havre, as I told you, I embarked for Rouen, in the 
far-famed Diligence, which is associated with so many tales of 
joy and sorrow. A queer vehicle it is, I assure you, propelled 
sometimes by five horses, sometimes by nine, and I do not des- 
pair, after being here a few days more, of finding as many as 
often have the honor of drawing, in my own dear country, some 
symbol of a great principle on our grand procession fetes. The 
cattle I am now speaking of, however, as far as I can see, have 
the task of transporting only a quantity of heavy luggage and 
sundry fat and lean people, as the case may be. For this pur- 
pose, five are the least number on the Diligences at a time ; two 
at "the wheel," and three abreast, "on lead." The next addi- 
tional horse goes on the wheel. The next three ahead of all ; 
these are always governed by a postilion. With you, the driver 
has a rein for every beast, you know ; but here, there are never 
more than four reins, and these are attached to the outer horses. 
A postilion sometimes rides on the "near leader." But the out- 
fit is not yet complete. As the soldier is omnipresent in France? 
one rides, of course, on the banquette, which is a top with a co- 
vering like a chaise. An imposing office this, for he pays each 
driver his daily stipend of twenty-five cents, and shouts to the 
passengers that intercept the way, with a stentorian voice, who 
all turn out to make room for the coming avalanche. The inside 
is divided into three apartments, variously furnished. More room 
is allowed in some than in others, and the price is proportionate. 
This is my introduction to the principle of graduation, which is 
by no means offensive, while submission to it is voluntary, as it is 
here and on the railways. Accordingly, I ascended to the ban- 

8 



ROUEN— THE CATHEDRAL. 



quette to obtain the best view of the rich scenery, that is spread 
out on every side. It affords a complete shelter from the wea- 
ther, and the glass windows, which can be dropped in front, open 
to the view of the stranger the country through which we are 
passing. It is the second or third division in point of expense. 
The prospect is exceedingly striking. Every object wears the 
air of novelty — the fertile fields, so exquisitely green — the 
thatched cottage — the flocks of corbeau, or raven, differing, I 
think, from our crow in tameness as well as appearance. Occa- 
sionally, a hare is seen scudding along, or an old and venerable 
church, heavenward pointing its grey spire. The driver jabbers 
to his horses perpetually, keeps his immense whip in constant use, 
making the narrow streets of the cities echo with its loud explo- 
sions. 

As we approached Rouen, the most conspicuous objects were 
the lofty towers and spires of the Cathedral, one of the most 
celebrated in the world, by some supposed to be founded by 
William the Conqueror. The first mention of this city is made 
by Ptolemy, who lived in the second century. It is doubtful 
whether its population of a hundred thousand is greater now 
than then ; its character, however, has changed. Then, it was 
inhabited by a people whose name has become a by-word — the 
ancient Goths ; now, its numerous churches proclaim it a Chris- 
tian nation. 

No person who is travelling for pleasure, fails to spend several 
days in the examination of the curiosities of this old town. The 
first among these, is the before-mentioned cathedral, commenced 
in the XHIth century, and finished in the XVIth. I wish I could 
portray the beauty and grandeur of this building, four hundred 
and fifty feet long, one hundred and ten wide, and to the top 
of the lanthorn, from the inside, two hundred feet. 

My first impressions were received by a visit made there in the 
nio-ht. The outside was not visible in the darkness, and the inte- 
rior, partially lighted by the votive tapers burning at the shrines 
of saints, lost none of its grandeur and solemnity. There were 
not more than twenty persons present in this immense building. 
All was still, save the voice of a priest in one of the distant 



10 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

chapels, and the sighs and the sobs of a penitent worshipper near 
me. A religion, which draws from their comfortable dwellings 
so many persons through the rainy streets, to spend an hour or 
more in the cold damps of a gloomy church, cannot but deeply 
impress one with a feeling of respect, which I fear is too rarely 
felt by the Protestant for the Catholic faith. 

But it was necessary to have a bright day to see in perfection 
the grandeur of this edifice. One hundred and thirty windows 
of stained glass to light it, represent the occurrences in the life 
of our Saviour, the Apostle sand " holy men made perfect," — one 
window sometimes containing an entire scene, such as the cruci- 
fixion of our Saviour between the two thieves, for example, and 
sometimes many scenes in the life of an individual, much smaller 
of course. The perfect expression of these pictures exceeded 
anything I had ever imagined. I witnessed the grand mass, in 
which the archbishop officiated. 

Among other ornaments, there is a silver lamp of large size, 
weighing forty marks, before the altar — the gift of the city — a 
thank-offering for the cessation of the plague in 1637. Here, in 
the Chapel of the Virgin, is the statue which formerly decorated 
the tomb of the celebrated Cceur de Lion, which had long been 
buried. But on the 30th of July, 1838, searches were made for 
it, and, guided by historical traditions, it was happily discovered. 
It is hewn out of a single block of freestone, and is six and a 
half feet long. It represents King Richard in a recumbent posi- 
tion, his head supported by a square cushion, wearing a crown 
encircled with precious stones ; his feet are supported by a 
crouching lion. On his left hand was a sceptre, of which we 
only see the remains ; the right has been destroyed. The 
prince's mantle descends nearly to his ancle in wide folds. It is 
over a tunic which reaches up to the neck, and is bound round 
the body by an embroidered belt. The researches, continued on 
the following day, discovered the heart of Richard, enclosed in a 
double box of lead with the following inscription : 

jfyit x facet % tor t ^itttuxtsi t reflis * 
gtafilorum ; 



ROUEN— PUBLIC LIBRARY. 11 

Near this, are statues of the husband of Diana of Poictiers, 
and of the cardinals of Amboise. Pillars, sculptures, gal- 
leries, bas-reliefs, statues, and paintings, are without number. 
The outside is not deficient in interest. Three lofty towers orna- 
ment it, the tallest of which, destroyed by fire in 1822, is being 
replaced, at an expense of $100,000, by one of iron. It will 
weigh 1,200,000 lbs., and will be four hundred and thirty-six 
feet high — thirteen feet less than the loftiest pyramid of Egypt. 

Leaving now this magnificent cathedral, of which it is impos- 
sible to give an adequate description, we will follow the guide — > 
who earns his dollar by conducting us, by the nearest route 
through the city, to the various places of note, and there giving 
his stereotyped descriptions — to the churches of St. Ouen, 
(which contains a window of colored glass unsurpassed in the 
world,) St. Maclou, St. Patrice, and many others of great beauty. 
Many of the beautiful churches are no longer used for religious 
services — one is a stable, and another a storehouse. Their lofty 
domes and elegant carvings still remain, though mutilated. In 
many of the others, the broken windows are replaced by modern 
manufactures of very inferior merit. 

It is impossible in the space I have allotted for the hasty de- 
scription of Rouen, even to attempt an enumeration of the objects 
of interest in this city, celebrated as the birth place of Corneille, 
Fontenelle, Boieldieu, the composer, and many others ; some of 
whose statues, as well as that of Joan of Arc, who was here 
burnt as a witch, ornament its public squares. The town hall 
contains a collection of portraits, and a public library enriched 
with manuscripts of distinguished beauty. One of these, the 
famous illuminated Gradual or Music Book, by Daniel d'Aubonne, 
richly repays the time, and money (one franc) expended in seeing 
it. It contains more than two hundred vignettes, and occupied 
in its construction thirty years of the life of its monkish author. 
It is not only a monument of devotion and perseverance, but a 
specimen of writing and pen embellishment unequalled. 

On returning to dinner, tired and cloyed with endless novelties, 
galleries of pictures and statues, views of the city from various 
points, carved walls and doors, large bells, &c, I fell into the 



12 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

company of some ladies from Brighton, in England, who, after 
inquiring my country, made me the compliment of speaking 
English very well, which I politely returned by saying, that they 
conversed in good American ; at which they appeared not a little 
puzzled. Happening to observe three quarter dollars, (fortunately 
they were not eagles,) which I had, they begged them of me, 
as curiosities, and placed them among some Catholic commu- 
nion wafers, which they had obtained during the day. When 
they get home they will doubtless all figure advantageously in 
their cabinet of choice articles of virtu, collected in their travels. 

On the 11th of November I quitted Rouen, taking the cars for 
Paris. What a magical agent is money ! Two families, for 
instance, live side by side for years. One of them is worth a 
million, the other not a thousand. A person, who did not know 
the world, would innocently imagine, that these two families 
were neighbors. There cannot be a greater mistake ; it is nothing 
but an optical illusion, I assure you, sir. The difference of their 
fortunes has rolled an ocean between them, so that these two 
families actually pass their lives without being at all aware even 
of the existence of one another. 

A freak of money, somewhat similar, though by no means so 
extraordinary, occurred at the cars for Paris. There are two 
classes of them at least, and probably more. The first class is 
designed to accommodate eight only, with seats lined with velvet, 
and fitted up in other respects to correspond. The second class 
is equally spacious, but lined with linen, admitting ten persons 
with abundance of room for all. The price paid for seats in the 
former was but a trifle more than in the others ; yet the effect of 
that little more upon the passengers was wonderful. Among 
them there was an English gentleman, and two daughters, who 
had, on the present excursion, for the first time in their lives left 
their native island. Under the powerful operation of their 
national proclivity, they assumed the velvet cushions of course. 
A party of gentlemen and ladies, also English, of equal rank and 
fashion, happened to be there too on their return from St. Pe- 
tersburgh. Having traveled over the whole of Europe, they 
had by this time acquired a tolerable knowledge of " matters 



PALACE OF LUXEMBOURG. 13 

and things," and accordingly chose the cars of the second class. 
They evidently felt no preference for velvet over linen to sit upon 
for an hour or two. Indeed, I find that the intelligent, though 
wealthy, do by no means invariably manifest a preference for 
what is of the highest price, on that account alone. But the 
effect of this procedure of the experienced travellers upon the 
gentleman with the two daughters was very amusing. Doubtless, 
owing to the cause to which I have alluded, the already turned- 
up noses of the two daughters now turned up to an elevation, 
that I had not before believed to be possible. But how extreme 
was their mortification, when they discovered on our arrival at 
Paris, that the distinction in the cars was of the most transitory 
nature, for we all went together from the depot in the same 
omnibus to the same hotel, and dined 'at the same table. This 
was the hotel Mirabeau, situated in the Rue de la Paix, which is 
very central. 

As we approached this great capital, nobody was needed to 
tell us of our progress ; the rapidly augmenting charges were 
abundantly sufficient to give information. And the bills, to 
which I am now subjected daily, leave me not in the least doubt 
whatever of my safe and happy arrival in the modern Athens. 
It is a great mistake, that everything is cheaper here than in 
the United States. Clothing, especially cotton, is higher, and 
woolen also. Linen is cheaper, but not so much so as in Eng- 
land. 

The Palace of Luxembourg is but a step from my present re- 
sidence. It is a square edifice, with an ample portico in the cen- 
tre. A noble pavilion surmounts the principal building, and ter- 
minates in a dome, composed of the Doric and Ionic orders. 
This palace, like most of the houses, is built in the form of a 
hollow square. One reason for this mode of construction may 
be found in their situations ; in streets, dirty, narrow, and noisy ; 
among groups of poor buildings, where the luxury of a prospect, 
except from some of the palaces, is rarely or never enjoyed. 
The best apartments are, consequently, those which face inward 
on the square enclosed, which is embellished, according to the 
means and taste of the owners ; with shrubbery, statues of stone, 



14 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

among the rich, and plaster among the poorer proprietors. The 
centre of the Luxembourg palace is a court-yard flagged, and 
without any other ornament than the architecture of the building 
itself. On entering the door, one is met by a sentry, who is station- 
ed at every public building, and, instead of crossing the square, I 
generally go through along the passage, bordered on both sides by 
immense orange and lemon tree-s, ascend two flights of stairs, and 
enter the picture gallery, which is a receptacle of such works of 
living artists only, as have been purchased by the government* 

These paintings are, some of them, twenty feet square, beauti- 
fully executed, with surfaces as smooth as glass. Strangers are 
admitted every day gratuitously ; and students, male and female, 
may always be seen copying the whole or parts of a picture ; and 
sometimes several at work upon the same. 

In this building are also the chambers of the ministers, the 
councillors of state, &c. Behind it is a large public garden, 
adorned with statues, and variegated with ponds and other em- 
bellishments. On Sunday, the great holiday of Paris, the galle- 
ries of paintings in the Luxembourg and Louvre are opened to 
all, and numerously frequented. In this manner the good taste 
of the French is kept alive. Those, who can spare the time, 
promenade every day ; and on Sundays, everybody. The shops 
are then closed at an early hour, and all resort to the Boulevards, 
or some of the many gardens scattered in all quarters of the 
city. The garden of the Tuilleries, being the most central, is the 
point of principal resort, certainly of the aristocracy. On those 
occasions almost every one has a dog, and the fashions of all 
classes may be seen, from the puppy of two legs to one of four. 
These dogs (the quadrupedian I mean) are generally conducted 
by a string or a small chain. A silk dress has one kind of dog, 
a fustian has another. 

The " Jardin des Plantes " pleases me the most. It is wanting, 
to be sure, in the numerous statues of the others, which appear 
indecent to the eye of a stranger, but possesses, in their stead, 
objects of superior attraction. The other gardens are nearly 
level ; this is diversified by hill and dale — by winding paths and 
quiet groves. Here, and indeed throughout the country, the grass 



>i.Mn 




NOTRE DAME. 15 



possesses an intensity of green unknown to you. Trees and shrubs, 
though now bereft of their foliage, abound in endless variety, as 
well as animals, birds, and reptiles ; but the latter are found in a 
different direction. 

The peculiar dress and habits of the people ; the women sweep- 
ing the streets (the dirtiest of all highways) and carrying enor- 
mous bundles on their heads ; the cumbrous vehicles, relics of 
a barbarous age ; and the horses, equally unwieldy, with their 
useless, ponderous trappings, conspire to render the city avenues 
a vast museum for the entertainment of the pedestrian. You 
must not be surprised, therefore, if I am sometimes lost in explor- 
ing the recesses of these labyrinths. 

Notre Dame, the metropolitan church, the only Gothic struc- 
ture of note in Paris, is situated in the cite, the oldest part and 
centre of the capital, and rises to a great height above all 
the buildings which surround it. It is no less than four hundred 
and fourteen feet in length ; its width is one hundred and forty- 
four, and its towers two hundred and four feet high. It is so old, 
that the date of its erection is unknown. Its walls are crust- 
ed over with the smoke of ages, and, of all the edifices in 
Paris, the cathedral of Notre Dame conveys to us the most 
lively impressions of the massiveness and durability of ancient 
architecture. When I visited this venerable church, every 
nook was occupied by a priest, who was expatiating to a crowd 
around him. Some of them seemed to regard the fair counte- 
nances of their young hearers with looks far from devotional. 
This church is filled with paintings and carved work, and, though 
bearing the evidence of injuries, inflicted by the violence of the 
populace in revolutionary times, still challenges admiration for 
its grandeur and beauty. 

On Saturday evening, I went to the Italian Opera, and had an 
opportunity to see a fair specimen, I imagine, of French beauty. 
But I must decline to express any opinion upon this very delicate 
subject, (almost as dangerous a topic, as the peculiar institutions 
of our Southern States,) as well as on the equally tender one of the 
French cuisine, till a longer residence has ripened my judgment. 
There is a single branch of the latter, however, so interesting, 



16 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

that I cannot wait to have my beard grow, (any longer than it is 
now at least,) before I give vent to my feelings of delight ; name- 
ly, the cafe au lait. It is indeed delicious ! Listen to the 
process. Two pots are brought ; from one of which your cup 
is half filled with cafe, clear, strong and hot ; from the other, 
they fill it up with boiling milk. A little silver plate contains 
some lumps of white sugar to sweeten it to your taste, or to 
make eau de sucre, which the French are very fond of. This 
is merely cold water, made sweet with sugar. 

But I was speaking of the opera. It was Rossini's II Barbiere 
di Siviglia ; and, whe,n sung by such persons, as Mad'lle Persiani, 
and Messrs. Lablache, Mario, Ronconi, Morelli, &c, with the 
orchestral accompaniment by about one hundred performers, all 
of whom are exceedingly skilful, you cannot doubt, that I pre- 
ferred it, even to the singing of Miss . I was indeed 

delighted. 

If my friends should come to see me, I fear I should need a 
formal introduction ; for the razor has not " scraped acquaint- 
ance " with my face, since I left the pleasant shores of New 
Jersey. Though neither neat, nor agreeable, such is the univer- 
sal fashion here, and saves trouble. What a luxury to me would 
be your pretty parlor stove with its peach orchard, or lehigh, 
instead of my wide-mouthed fire place, voraciously devouring 
the principal part of the caloric, generated by the combustion of 
two or three sticks of wood, and some Newcastle coal laid 
thereon. And when it is considered, too, that the windows and 
doors, and indeed the whole panel-work, afford a pretty easy 
passage to the air, the contest maintained within, against the 
external cold, must be acknowledged to be somewhat an unequal 
one. The want of attention to the economy of heat is the more 
surprising, since fuel bears so high a price. 

But this is not the only inconvenience. The partition walls 
between rooms are frequently nothing but laths, which sounds 
and odors penetrate with ease. Just as I go to bed at night at 
twelve o'clock, for instance, a neighbor of mine expends his sur- 
plus enthusiasm upon a pianoforte. I find no fault with the in- 
strument or player, for both are good, but I can't help thinking, 



A MUSICAL NEIGHBOR. 17 

that lie who breaks my sleep by making a noise after twelve at 
night, is guilty of an assault and battery, and ought to be sen- 
tenced to undergo the penalty, for each offence, of spending a 
day in the house of some Orpheus, just beginning to learn to 
play on the trombone. 



III. 

Latin Quarter — The Hospital of Hotel-Dibit. 

Away from the palaces, gardens, statues, galleries of paintings, 
and even from the fashion and respectability of the city, lies the 

Latin quarter. Let us hurry through its generally dirty and 
narrow streets, and visit its numerous hospitals, colleges, schools 
of medicine and law, dissecting rooms, museums, and botanical 
gardens. Here also are the dwellings of the poor and destitute, 
the student, and of that classj known only in Paris — the grisette. 
All these are found almost exclusively in this quarter, which is 
separated from the habitations of the wealthy and fashionable by 
the river Seine. 

The hospitals of Paris deserve the fame, which they enjoy 
throughout the world, of being the best in existence, on every 
account. They are the best for the physicians, who there ac- 
quire their reputation and subsistence ; best for the student, who 
can there see every species of disease, that afflicts humanity any 
where, treated with consummate skill by the most scientific pro- 
fessors of the age ; and, finally, best for the patient, who, com- 
ing from the highways and byways of life, and from the haunts 
of misery, penury, and vice, finds all here, which money, religion, 
and skill can bestow, to make him comfortable, though suffering 
from the anguish of disease. It is impossible too highly to prize 
or praise such noble institutions. 

A long list of illustrious names commemorates the benefactors 
of these charities, the origin of which is veiled in impenetrable 
obscurity, though it can be traced back more than a thousand 
years. When at home we can calmly take up a book, and read 
of the effeminacy of one king, and the cruelty of another ; we 
can believe all the vices which are ascribed to a monarch, and 

18 



HOSPITAL OF HOTEL-DIEU. 19 

shrink with horror from the contemplation of crimes, magnified 
and colored, if not invented, by some political historian ; and we 
congratulate ourselves, that such enormities cannot be committed 
in our own favored country. But, when contemplating these 
buildings, founded by a Mazarin, or Richelieu, and supported and 
enlarged by a long line of sovereigns, whose characters have been 
portrayed in the blackest hues, we cannot but suspect them, in 
many instances, to be injured men, and that their histories, 
which now exist, are too often the offspring of the malicious 
imagination of partizan writers. It is difficult to imagine such 
contradictory conduct, so strange a union of virtue and vice, so 
incongruous a conjunction of cruelty and humanity. The monu- 
ments of their benevolence remain, and, therefore, it is but 
justice, that we should examine the evidence of their atrocities 
with cautious impartiality. 

The oldest hospital in Paris, and, among the first in extent, 
stands the Hotel-Dieu, or Hospice D'Humanite. There are 
twenty other institutions, or more, of this nature, in the city, for 
the accommodation of patients of every description, on the most 
soothing and liberal principles. The noble buildings of the Ho- 
tel-Dieu have no claim to architectural elegance, being chiefly 
remarkable for solidity. The work of several ages, their uncer- 
tain origin is attributed to St. Landri, Bishop of Paris in the sev- 
enth century. This hospital has been successively enlarged by 
Philip Augustus, Louis XIII, XIV, XV, and XVI. It extends, 
at present, along both sides of the river Seine, the buildings be- 
ing united by a tunnel passing under it. Numerous changes are 
in constant progress, having for their object the ultimate enlarge- 
ment of the institution, and the substitution of new buildings in 
modern style. This, however, has for the present reduced the 
number of beds from 1200 to 800. The different halls are em- 
bellished with the statues and portraits of the distinguished phy- 
sicians and surgeons, who have here spent a large portion of 
every day in attending the sick and suffering, among which 
are those of the celebrated Bichat and Dupuytren. 

Into this establishment the sick and wounded of all descriptions 
are received, with the exception of children, incurable and insane 



20 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

persons, and those who are afflicted with cutaneous and syphilitic 
diseases. The annual average number of patients is eleven thou- 
sand, and the average mortality, one in eight hundred and seventy- 
two. Beside numerous house pupils (internes) the daily service 
of nine physicians and three surgeons is required. Drs. Chomel 
and Magendie, and surgeons Roux and Blandin are the most 
eminent. The hospital is open only to students, who have re- 
ceived a diploma, and desire to see the practice and hear the 
cliniques of these celebrated men. Strangers with passports are 
admitted to view every day, and the public twice a week. 

In order to obtain a more particular knowledge of the appear- 
ance and customs of the place, you must follow me in imagination 
in my diurnal visit. Rising at seven o'clock in the morning, I 
hasten to arrive at the Hotel-Dieu, a distance of a mile from my 
lodgings, by half-past seven o'clock. At the door I am stopped 
by the guard, whose cocked hat and uniform are the evidences 
of his authority. On showing a ticket, given by the officers of 
the institution, or, on the exhibition of my diploma, admittance is 
instantly granted. The medical gentleman from the United 
States must not neglect to bring his diploma with him, as he will 
find it quite necessary, on frequent occasions, to the free and pro- 
per prosecution of his studies. 

Passing through this building, the court-yard, and under the 
river, I arrive at the edifice devoted to the females. Each of 
the doors, forming the entrances into the various wards, has over 
it a name, being that of some saint. On entering, I find myself 
in a long hall, extending as far almost, as the eye can reach. 
Upon both sides is a row of beds, numbering nearly a hundred, 
making a striking appearance to an American. The bedsteads 
are constructed of iron, which however are concealed from sight 
by curtains. This iron frame work effectually excludes all vermin. 
Many hospitals in the United States, supplied with wooden bed- 
steads, and admitting patients from similar classes of society, are 
much annoyed by them. The curtains answer the double pur- 
pose of temporary seclusion and a screen from the light. The 
objections, which have been offered by many physicians in the , 
United States in regard to the detrimental influence of curtained beds 



HOSPITAL OF HOTEL-DIEU. 21 

upon the sick, by confining the air, rendered impure by the breath- 
ing of the patients, and the exhalations from the body and open 
wounds, do not apply to these. The top is left uncovered, which 
consequently admits a free passage of the atmosphere. At the 
foot of this hall is perceived, either a painting, a plaster, or per- 
haps a carved oak representation of the Virgin Mary, or of the 
patron saint, to whom it is dedicated. This is surrounded by 
flowers real and artificial, candles, and other emblems of catholic 
worship. 

The description of the practice in this hospital will be given in 
mv next letter. 



IV. 

Catholic Religion — French Hospitals — Hotel-Dieu — Nuns — Hospi- 
tal Practice — Mons. Blandin — Dr. Mott, of New-York. 

Coming from a country where harsh judgments are hazarded 
on the tendency of the Catholic religion, and the hypocrisy of its 
professors, it gives one the pleasure of a surprise to visit a 
hospital in France, and witness the hold which it has upon the 
public mind. However strongly one may be convinced of the 
erroneousness of many of their doctrines, he cannot, after such a 
sight, but be less egotistical and self-sufficient ; less disposed to 
condemn others, and to exalt his own judgment, as the only cer- 
tain standard of right and wrong. I pronounce not on their ar- 
ticles of faith, of which they surely have abundance, nor on the 
merits of their works, which few will affirm to be inferior to those 
of others in the daily walks of life. But the heart has its pre- 
rogatives, which will not be slighted, and does not wait before it 
feels, to inquire whether it is right or not. 

In this hospital, as in almost every other in France, may be 
witnessed the unremitting care of the religieuses. That which I 
visited at Havre, is under the general direction of the nuns, the 
Lady Superior herself giving £400 sterling a year for its support 
in addition to her undivided attention. There I saw seven hun- 
dred beds, and in one of them a sailor, who had fallen from the 
top of a New- York and Havre packet on her passage out. He 
struck upon the sky-light, and when taken up, his leg was found 
to be completely separated from his thigh, and was left on deck, 
while he was carried below. Sixty religieuses of the order of St. 
Augustine devoted their whole time and attention to the suffer- 
ing in the Hotel-Dieu alone. Undistracted by the amusements 
of the world, they find "their meat and their drink" in bathing 

22 



HOSPITAL OF HOTEL-DIEU— MONS. BLANDIN. 23 

the burning brow, and moistening the parched lip ; in pointing 
the convalescent to a nobler sphere of duty, in a different path 
from that in which they have been travelling ; in whispering to the 
dying of Christ's love, and directing their wandering thoughts " to 
the bright realms of peace and happiness in another and a better 
world." When I see these women thus engaged, I forget, that 
they are attendants and nurses, and regard them with a senti- 
ment of veneration. They appear to me to be fulfiling a holy miss- 
ion upon earth. I see no ostentation in their peculiar dress, their 
large and uncomely cap or hood, and the bandages by which the 
principal part of their faces is concealed. To me they seem to 
say, " Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy-laden, 
and I will give you rest ; buy of me wine and oil, without money 
and without price." Revenons a nos moutons. 

I said, that I saw these things, but at this early hour (half- 
past seven a. m.) the streets themselves are hardly visible, much 
less the interior of a house. By accident I am in the surgical 
ward of Mons. Blandin. Directing my steps to two or three 
flickering candles, I traverse the long hall. Stranger, tread with 
care, lest this waxed oaken floor, which reflects, like a mirror, 
the little light in the distance, should convert you, on a sudden, 
from the character of a student into that of a patient of the learn- 
ed surgeon. Around the bed stand fifty, or perhaps a hundred, 
students, some with note books, listening to the words of the sur- 
geon, and completely hiding him and his "suite" from view. 
Anticipating his progress, and taking a position by the side of 
the next patient, I may perhaps succeed in seeing him. 

The idea I had formed of this excellent man, is not disappoint- 
ed by his personal appearance. He is some fifty years of age, 
perhaps five feet ten inches in height, erect and well made. His 
fine open countenance, unhidden by beard, high forehead and 
sparkling eye, bespeak the man of intellect and decision, quick- 
ness of thought, and promptness of execution; characteristics 
most necessary to a surgeon, who should possess them, combined 
with perfect coolness under all circumstances, that he may be 
able to seize upon the proper moment to render useful assistance 
to the sufferer under his hands. These qualities are evident, as 



24 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

he goes from bed to bed, examining quickly, but carefully and 
closely, the condition of the patients. The heart of the surgeon 
is not always callous, and the questions which he puts, though 
often hasty and loud, are nevertheless always mild and softly 
spoken. He wears a white linen apron fastened round his waist, 
attached in part to a button on his coat, which protects his 
clothes from the lint of the beds, and the numerous soiling 
articles around a patient. In a button-hole of his coat is seen 
the narrow red ribbon, worn by all the members of the Medical 
Society. After him come the students attached to the hospital, 
some five or six in number, called internes or externes, as they 
reside in, or out of the building. Three of them carry books, 
pens and ink. One records the state of the patient, as described 
by the surgeon ; another, the medical prescriptions ; and the 
third, the diet. Mons. Blandin himself carries another book, 
containing a summary of the case and treatment. The other 
three take off the bandages, and assist in such slight operations, 
as are performed at the bedside. These are surrounded by the 
crowd of following students. As in such an assembly, it would 
be impossible to carry the hat in the hand, the custom of wear- 
ing it in the wards of the sick, which strikes an American stran- 
ger so unpleasantly, is explained. 

There is none of that false modesty here, which is so prevalent 
at home. Perhaps some sneering reader may suggest, that there 
is less of the real. However that may be, there is certainly no 
affectation of it. Men and women lose their sex, when sick, and 
are viewed in the character of patients merely. To understand 
their cases aright, it is sometimes, and in surgical cases always, 
necessary to see. All diseased parts of the body are unhesita- 
tingly displayed without a thought of indelicacy. This is as it 
should be. Mrs. Farrar, in her work on the education of young 
ladies, amid many pruderies, has good sense on this point. 
Over-nicety in these cases is almost entirely American. In the 
hospital of a house of correction, where I attended some time, I 
have known the most abandoned women object, as strenuously 
as a young girl, to the necessary examination of her person. 
The prude perhaps might call this behavior a remnant of her 



DR. MOTT, OF NEW YORK. 25 

original condition, or a germ of better feelings. She is welcome 
to the rationale. 

Behind the students follow waiters, with bandages, lint, water, 
and the entire surgical apparatus. At this early hour, it is im* 
possible to see without artificial light. Each of the scribes there- 
fore carries a candle attached to his book, and the surgeon him* 
self another of wax, about the size of a pipe stem, which is curled 
upon itself in an oblong form. This is placed under the patient's 
nose, occasionally singeing it, in order to see his tongue, and 
sometimes a little hot wax falls upon the patient's person. 

The visit of the day is finished. The books of diet and medi- 
cines, which have been prescribed, being signed by the physician, 
thus authorizing their dispensation, he follows the students to the 
lecture room, and delivers a brief, but comprehensive, description 
of some disease, illustrating it by reference to patients in the 
house. Not having removed his apron, he is ready to perform 
any operation, which may be required. The hand of Mons. 
Blandin is quick and steady, and his operations are done with dex- 
terity and neatness. The first day on which I attended his clin- 
ique, there was a case of dislocation of the humerus. He de- 
scribed the many methods employed for its reduction, especially 
for this form, where the head of the bone was in the axilla. 
Among them he mentioned the excellent method of Dr. Mott, of 
New York, of which he spoke in high terms, and finished by 
saying, that he would attempt the reduction on this occasion by 
that method ; which he accordingly did with perfect success. It 
gratified me exceedingly to hear him speak of my countryman in 
language so flattering. I had been in Paris but a short time, and 
then scarcely knew a soul in the great city. I was lonely. But 
this public recognition of the merits of an American, though I 
had never enjoyed the pleasure of seeing him, operated on my 
spirits like a charm. It electrified me with delight. The glory 
of our great men may be slighted, or even withered, by detrac- 
tion, at home, but it is ever very dear to the heart of a country- 
man in a strange land. It elevates him in the eyes of foreigners, 
and what is better, it raises him in his own. 

A great trouble in attending these cliniques, and, in truth, all 
2* 



OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



the medical lectures in the city, is caused by the little attention 
paid to the comfort of hearers. The seats are hard and without 
backs, and there is but scanty room for the feet. This confined 
position it is very uncomfortable to maintain for such a length of 
time as the lectures frequently last. Here, too, as in the wards, 
the students listen with their hats on their heads, if more conve- 
nient. 



V. 

Bal Masque. 

I have just returned from the first masked ball of the season, 
and, as the peculiar manners of a people are apt to be conspic- 
uous in their amusements, I shall attempt to give you a descrip- 
tion of it. 

These balls are very frequent during the Carnival, and are held 
at various places. The one which I attended, was at the French 
Opera House, and, as it was the first, is supposed to have been 
the best, of the series. Its claims to superiority are founded on 
the capacity of the building, allowing the entrance of more per- 
sons at one time, than any other place of amusement ; the num- 
ber and surpassing excellence of the musicians ; the brilliancy of 
its illumination, and the superiority of the maskers, whose means 
enable them to appear in richer and more fantastic dresses, than 
at the other balls, and perhaps selected with more taste. The 
cost of a ticket, when obtained single at the bureau, is ten francs, 
(about two dollars,) but they can be bought for half the sum of 
persons around the door, who purchase them by the hundred, 
and sell them very low. 

The crowded streets, for a circuit of half a mile around the 
building, are guarded by numerous soldiers, both mounted and 
foot, who regulate the approach and withdrawal of carriages, 
which are constantly going and coming. Eleven o'clock, p. m. is 
the time for commencing, generally on Saturday or Sunday eve- 
ning, when the world is most at leisure to attend to amusements. 
Arrived there, all men are admitted, who have tickets and are 
decently dressed, either plainly or fancifully; and women in 
any tidy garments, be they petticoats or breeches, if masked 
Masks are confined to women, who are compelled to wear them 

27 



28 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

The first resort of a stranger is to the upper boxes, whence he 
can obtain a " coup-d'ceil " of all that is beneath him. On en- 
tering, the intense brilliancy dazzles the unaccustomed eye. A 
thousand gas-burners emit as many jets of flame, reflected back 
from numerous mirrors and cut pendants of glass chandeliers, 
which, agitated by the trembling building, shaken by innumera- 
ble dancers, twinkle like the stars of the firmament. Looking, 
however, below and beyond the blaze, we have a view of the 
pit, covered with a spring-floor, and enlarged by the addition of 
the stage to more than double its usual dimensions. It is occu- 
pied with two or three thousand dancers, decked in habiliments of 
all kinds and colors, the fashion of every nation and age, and 
representing animals of various climes. Presently you behold 
this immense assembly dancing a quadrille with the most uncouth 
and extravagant gestures ; leaping, walking on their hands and 
feet, like quadrupeds, or on their knees. Sometimes, from being 
intentionally tripped by one another, and pushed by the crowd, 
a dozen, perhaps, are lying on the floor, kicking, screaming and 
rolling, men and women together. The music changes, and a 
gallopade finishes the figure, which grows every moment quicker 
and quicker, till it becomes a race around the halls, in which 
each one disregards both time and tune in the eager attempt to 
outstrip the rest. This is varied by the polka, a waltz, and the 
mazourka. 

Beyond the dancers, in the back part of the stage, is placed 
the orchestra, to me the most attractive part of all that is pre- 
sented before us. Two hundred of the finest musicians, which 
this city of music can produce, are here collected. In the midst 
is seen Musard, the conductor, whose vigorous exertions in flour- 
ishing his baton and guiding the players rival the polkars before 
him. 

It is altogether impossible to remain longer in the box gazing. 
If the harp of one man, like Orpheus, could overcome the natural 
reluctance of oak and granite, and rouse them to a country dance, 
surely the music of two hundred professors, every one doubtless 
very much his superior, must animate even the wooden legs of the 
gray-haired pensioners themselves. Mine, at any rate, which do 



BAL MASQUE. 29 



not pretend to be either marble or timber, soon gave way to the 
delicious epidemic, and I found myself mingling with the enthu- 
siastic multitude. Perhaps we may find among the masks, some 
which conceal intellect and beauty. With great difficulty at length 
we get upon " the floor." Four thousand persons are here, and 
every avenue is clogged. Your path is stopped by many, who 
seize you by the arm, and forcibly restrain your progress, at the 
same time whispering some impertinent compliment or merry 
nonsense. Perfect freedom of speech and action reigns. Nothing 
is too gross to be said, and very little that is not permitted to be 
done. Have you ever escaped from the turmoil of the city, and, 
wandering in the green woods, far from the dwellings of men, 
where none could hear your voice, have you ever then thrown 
yourself upon the verdant sward, rolled about in perfect wanton- 
ness, shouted and sang and screamed, till the hills reverberated the 
sound, and the birds flew about astonished at the sudden uproar ? 
If you have, you may obtain a faint conception of the abandon 
of this unparalleled assembly. 

The mask worn by the ladies is made of black silk, satin, or 
velvet. It is so small, that it serves only to cover the eyes, nose 
and part of the cheeks, leaving the mouth and chin exposed, or 
but partially concealed by a piece of black lace attached to it. — 
This exposure is sufficient to enable one to distinguish the com- 
parative age, and to judge pretty correctly of the charms, of the 
wearer. The domino is merely a mantle of silk with edgings of 
lace, and serves to hide the form of the person. This is not, as 
I have remarked, the only female dress, but it is the one worn 
by such as really desire to conceal their face and figures. The 
prettier the person, the more of it is generally to be seen. 

Among the masks were many, certainly a third, who wore the 
garments of men, such as those of sailors, Scotch, Swiss, and the 
dress of pages at court. With this metamorphosis, their charac- 
ters were also changed, and they were observed to be the rough- 
est and most foolish and even indecent in their behavior. Those, 
who object to the close contact of the sexes in the "mazes of the 
giddy waltz," might not think the evil any greater in this, than in 
other dances, were they to observe the still closer affinity in the 



30 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



quadrilles. Such warm embraces are never seen in America, not 
even at the parting or re-union of relations or friends. 

It is part of the etiquette of the evening, whether in the dance, 
or out, to embrace all. One, in particular, disguised in the skin 
of a white bear, went round with open mouth, and, as if partak- 
ing the characteristics of the beast he personated, hugged almost 
as forcibly as the brute himself, all the women, whose appearance 
pleased his animal taste. Here might be seen a mask, climbing 
upon the shoulders of a cavalier, and rudely assisted to ascend 
by the pushes of the passers by. Others were observed sitting 
in each other's laps, fondling and kissing. — Bare necks indeed 
were considered public property, and received salutes with as lit- 
tle ceremony, as if they had been left so for the purpose. 

With a desire to ascertain, merely as a point of philosophy of 
course, the real character if possible, of those who were among 
the principal attractions, I went from one to another, talking, 
dancing and waltzing. The first object of my examination proved 
to be a grisette, mourning for the loss of a bracelet ; her pleasure 
for the evening was destroyed. She had waltzed with one, whom 
she suspected to be the purloiner. She unhesitatingly proffered 
an assignation with me for the morrow. One I noticed sitting 
near me, whose flaxen ringlets revealed her to be not only from 
another country, but of a different taste from those around. She 
was dressed in one of the most extravagant costumes of the eve- 
ning, and I had previously seen her dancing with a freedom of 
manner quite remarkable. Just now she was refusing in pure 
Castilian the urgent entreaties of a young Spaniard to join in the 
next quadrille. Not doubting a similar reception myself, still, 
merely for amusement, I asked the favor of her company in the 
waltz, which had just commenced. She accepted to my astonish- 
ment, and in French so good that I imagined her a Parisian. To 
a neighbor she afterwards spoke Italian, and with me she con- 
versed in excellent English. Expressing my astonishment at her 
fluency in so many tongues, she said she was equally so in Ger- 
man. " But which is your vernacular, I would beg to know V 
The question met with no satisfactory response. " I have lived 
in many of the United States," she replied, "in New York, New 



BAL MASQUE. 31 



Hampshire and others. " What towns in New Hampshire, my 
wonderful friend ?" Among others, she mentioned Peterborough. 
" The birth-place of Judge Smith," I remarked. " Yes," she 
responded, " but the silver locks of this good old man are hidden 
in the tomb." — " Did you know the M. family ?" — " Yes," she 
said immediately, " there are five or six, tall, long-legged sons, 
I remember John and Nat, Sam and Jim, and — there are several 
more for aught I know." Was n't she a queer acquaintance for a 
Paris masked ball ? I must not forget to say that she polkaed 
a ravir. The next was pretty enough to be better. Without urg- 
ing she gave me her address. In the course of the evening she 
sought for me, with the desire that I should give her some money 
to pay for her hack, as she was going to retire immediately. Two 
hours after, I saw her dancing with great animation. A fourth 
lady, whose superior education was very evident, after much 
urging for her address, wrote thus : "I am an angel ; my home 
is in Paradise." Nothing farther could I learn. Thus continued 
this remarkable ball, without the least symptom of flagging, till 
half-past six in the morning, when the last dance was finished, 
and I went home, where I arrived in season for my morning visit 
to the Hospital. 

From this sketch of my experience, some conception may be 
formed perhaps of the appearance and customs, the character of 
the persons who attend, their occupation while there, and finally 
the probable tendency, of the Bal Masque. I shall leave you to 
draw your own conclusion. 



VI. 

Condition of Women — Hair Market at Caen— Bourgeois Party- 
Funerals ok the Rich and the Poor. 

I had no sooner set my foot upon the soil of France, than the 
servitude of the women arrested my attention ; and this, too, in 
Havre, the birth-place of Madame de la Fayette. In this land of 
politesse and chivalry, one cannot but notice with wonder the 
numerous evidences of barbarism in the common walks of life. 
Women are employed to sweep the streets, transport the heaviest 
burdens, and in numerous other similar occupations. Often have 
I seen them, when age and disease had crippled their poAvers, 
carrying two pails of water, whose weight would terrify an Amer- 
ican damsel of twenty years, upon shoulders already bowed down 
by the pressure of time, rudely jostled by the crowd, with scanty 
clothing, and no covering for the head, but a thin cap, which did 
not restrain their silver locks from playing around their wrinkled 
foreheads. Would to God, this were a single instance ! 'T is 
but a poor picture drawn from the scenes of every-day life. 

At Caen, but a short distance from Rouen, there is a market, 
whither young girls resort, and stand hour after hour with their 
flowing hair, rich and glossy, deriving additional lustre from the 
contrast with their naked shoulders. This is the resort of the 
merchant barbers, some of whom come even from England, 
The merchants pass along among them, examine the color, tex- 
ture, evenness, and other qualities of the beautiful fleece, haggle 
for a sous, and finally buy. The hair then, after being cut as 
closely as possible to the head, is weighed and paid for, and the 
girl goes home to prepare for another shearing, or perhaps to 
purchase a husband with her money. An American girl prefers 
to let her hair turn to silver on her own head, or if it must be 
Out off, to enjoy the crop herself. 

32 



BOURGEOIS PARTY. 



Higher up in the social scale is the small shop-keeper with 
Madame, who contributes to the income by teaching music and 
Italian, and constructing flowers with worsted. Of the first and 
last she knows but little ; her talents, as a polyglot, I am unable 
to appreciate. She has her party, as well as those above her, 
consisting perhaps of thirty persons. Among them was a gentle- 
man, who resided with Joseph Bonaparte at Bordentown for 
two years. Her apartments are on the second floor, in reality 
the third, for a vintner occupies the ground floor, as a shop. 
You go to the door, and knock with a massive ring eight inches 
in circumference, and so thick, that both hands are well-nigh re- 
quired to lift it. It makes a tremendous noise. But — don't be 
alarmed, because the door gives away. " It is the concierge, who, 
in his room at a distance of some forty feet, has pulled the 
cord attached to the spring latch. You shut the door on enter- 
ing, and grope your way along, stumbling and stubbing against 
the pavement, towards the glimmer of the stearine candle in the 
dim distance. The concierge informs you, that Madame D-^ — s 
rooms are on the second floor, whither you pursue your way in the 
dark, as before. You are admitted by the hostess herself into a 
little entry four feet square, deposit your chapeau, and enter the 
drawing-room. This is a " maid of all work." It answers for 
eating room, (I know not but kitchen too,) parlor and bed-cham- 
ber. In a niche is' the bed with festooned curtains. The floor 
is of tiles, waxed. The walls are decorated with daguerreotype 
portraits of the family, some wood cuts of guinea pigs, and a hor- 
rid daub in oil, called a portrait. The mantle and a case of 
drawers contain, under a glass shade, specimens of Madame's tal- 
ents in making flowers, and a metal clock. In a corner stands 
a miserable piano, shockingly out of tune. 

Into this room, thus encumbered with furniture, you are ush- 
ered, and make your obeisance, probably to the portrait in oil, 
the only face that looks at you — no one seems to notice your ar- 
rival. The master is engaged in talking, and "it does not pay" 
to leave his conversation for a mere form. For a full half min- 
ute, the longest period that a Frenchman is still at one time, you 



34 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

are permitted to rest. That time is employed in taking a coup- 
d'ceil of the company. It is a collection of ugly women of forty 
years, and a few girls, who are admitted into society, because their 
personal attractions expose them to no danger of being led astray. 
Around is a number of mustaches and beards, but no faces are 
at all perceptible. The half minute is over. You have no time 
to scrutinize, what indeed would not pay for the labor, for the 
hostess advances, seizes you by the hand, and hurries you to the 
dance. Ten couples commence a quadrille in this small room. At 
the piano are seated the two children of Madame, from six to ten 
years of age, who attempt a duet. When one of them hurries 
the time, after having got sufficiently ahead, she very obligingly 
waits for the other to "catch up," who, having succeeded, thinks 
it time to take the lead herself. Thus they proceed in regular 
alternations. All this time the dancers are performing wonders 
with their feet, somewhat at the expense of skin and bone, it is 
true, in so limited a sphere of action. There being two tunes, as 
we have said, the company have a choice, some preferring one, 
some the other. A considerable irregularity naturally ensues, 
till doubts begin to arise, as to what figure they are attempting to 
execute, when the quadrille becomes a riddle. Suddenly the noise 
of the piano changes. All ready for a gallopade — away we go, 
treading on each other's heels, and turning round, overturn some 
one, who chances to be next. Ah ! there is a little more room 
now. The fat lady has " given in," and sits puffing like a loco- 
motive. We gallop along, the space gradually becomes larger, 
for that young lady, who apparently has no dress on under that 
thin muslin cape, has lost a shoe in the race. Hip ! away we go, 
my partner and I, " neck and neck," the gallop becomes a "trot" 
or " canter." My partner is certainly a Pegasus, and I am on 
the " rack." Ah ! the orchestra has stopped performance. The 
waltz is now in the ascendant, and away we whirl again with an- 
other old lady, who, I perpetually fear, will shake off her curls. 
Were our habiliments different, we might be taken for the an- 
cient Athletae contending for the prize of wrestling. No wonder 
Byron and others have written so touchingly of the waltz. It is 



FUNERALS OF RICH AND POOR. 35 

shocking. Ladies who waltz, should really abjure the bulbous 
esculents, and breathe of roses. " No, no — I do not wish to 
dance any more ; I am not a polka man, but prefer to look over 
these card players." The interest is great, where two sous are 
at stake. 

And so the scene continues from eight o'clock in the evening, 
to two and a half in the morning, interrupted only by the en- 
trance of a liquid, called grog — Washingtonians need not be 
alarmed — it tastes of nothing but sugar and water, though, on a 
close examination, by the olfactories, the presence of a slight 
homoeopathic dose of some kind of spirit is detected. 

On inquiry, it is discovered, that at this reunion, there is 
a Portuguese, a German, a Scotchman, and an American. Our 
hostess is fond of lions, and she has got together a collection of 
birds, who warble different tongues ; the consequence is, that, 
confined in so small a cage, all are uneasy and ennuye. I in- 
quired of several the names of their neighbors — none knew. In- 
troductions are not thought of. 

You, who live in a city, which has once had its ball-room in a 
grave-yard, will not be surprised, if you find in this letter, but a 
single step between my description of a dance and that of a fu- 
neral. Such is actual life. The house of feasting is often the 
very next door to the house of mourning. One cannot have had 
his eyes open in travelling along through the world, who has 
failed to observe that painful and startling intermingling of comic 
and tragical events, so vividly depicted by the master-hand of 
Shakspeare. 

To-day I chanced to be passing the Church of St. Sulpice, 
just as a funeral procession was leaving its portals. A few days 
ago I witnessed a similar scene. There is nothing remarkable in 
either of these events, nothing can be more common than they 
were. It is this very commonness, which makes them penetrate 
the thoughtful soul so deeply, and renders them worthy of no- 
tice. The pageant, which is now passing before me, is the fune- 
ral of a rich man. A long line of black carriages, drawn by 
black horses, and driven by coachmen in black, followed a hearse 



36 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

in the same sombre color, with numerous curtains, adorned with 
silver lace and tassels, ostrich plumes, and other bravery. The 
noble horses, fretting under the bit, tossed their heads, richly- 
decked with feathers, in the air. The sexton, in his long official 
robe, with cocked hat in hand, opened the coach doors for those 
who were to follow the honorable dead to the cemetery of Mount 
Parnassus ; and with numerous bows, apparently regardless of 
crumpling his snowy neckcloth, ushered them in. The portals 
of the church were concealed by an ample curtain, similarly em- 
bellished ; and within, immediately before the altar, was erected 
a temporary mausoleum of black hangings to the memory of the 
deceased. 

The poor man's way to the grave contrasts very sadly with all 
this pompous marshalling of the opulent to his marble tomb. 
Nothing, in fact, can differ more, unless it be their several jour- 
neys through the perpetual hard toil, and boundless gratifications 
of their respective lives. It is not enough, it seems, to maintain 
these distinctions while they live ; but they must be thrust as far 
as possible into the silent mansions of the departed ; and, if it 
were practicable, the humble dead would be left literally " to 
bury their dead." We shall see in the other funeral occasion, 
to which I alluded, how nearly, in some places, they have ap- 
proached the point of requiring the deceased poor to walk to 
the grave themselves. 

It was the obsequies of a — nobody — evidently not " a feather 
in the cap" of any undertaker. A priest, in his long black 
robe and cocked hat, hurries along, as fast as possible, with 
his prayer-book under his arm. He threads the ciowded street, 
dexterously dodges the numerous obstructions in the way, occa- 
sionally slipping on the muddy pavement, in his haste to finish the 
small job, which he has undertaken, of burying a poor man. 
After him, but scarcely able to keep equal pace with the holy man, 
encumbered as he was with his burden, came a person with a 
rough unpainted box upon his shoulder, containing the remains 
of mortality. This sweating porter was in his shirt-sleeves, 
which, unfortunately for the credit of the funeral procession, were 



FUNERALS OF RICH AND POOR. 37 

not clean. No matter. Nobody but myself observed it. Final* 

ly, came the mourners. I should speak more correctly in the 

singular, for there was but one, who strode along, his sabots 
keeping time with the clinking of the living hearse before. 

M Death cuts down all, 
Both great and small." 

as the Primer beautifully saith. 
3 



VII, 

Musard — Mardi-Gras — Pere Goriot — Louis Philippe — Bastringues 
— Traiteurs — Feasts — Fasts — Clergy — Confession — Order of the 
" Holy Cross." 

The Carnival, with all its pleasures, extravagances and absurdi- 
ties, is at length finished. The masked balls are suspended. The 
numerous crowds of joyous beings no longer throng the theatres 
and other dancing saloons. The reign of " Musard the Great,'* 
the distinguished composer of quadrilles and dances, is at an end. 
At one of the last balls at the Grand Opera, where he officiates 
as conductor of the two hundred musicians collected there, a 
number of the giddy dancers, making their way through their 
midst, penetrated to his throne, and taking him thence, bore him 
in triumph around the theatre, which rang with the voices of 
some six thousand persons, shouting vive Musard, le Roi de la 
Danse. The greatest excitement prevailed for some length of 
time in spite of the efforts of the soldiers and municipal guards, 
always present in all public assemblies, to prevent disturbance. 

Mardi-Gras, or the fourth of February, being the last day 
of the Carnival, is the great holiday of the season. Into this is 
crowded more of folly and mirth, than any other day in the year. 
The whole community are permitted on this occasion to appear 
masked in the street, and under cover of this license to commit 
a thousand extravagances, which amuse this easily excited peo- 
ple. On the Boulevards—the fashionable promenade — crowds of 
people throng the trottoirs to witness the maskers, who, dressed 
in every color and fashion, rode through the streets in open 
vehicles. One I saw striding a poor old horse, whose every bone 
was distinctly visible through his shaved skin. The window of a 
victualer in the vicinity, attracted a large crowd. In it was dis- 
played an immense turkey, apparently of some thirty pounds 

38 



MARDI-GRAS.— PERE GORIOT. 



weight, stuffed with truffles. On it was affixed a label, stating 
that it was to be sent to the Duke of Wellington at a cost of one 
hundred dollars. 

Mardi-Gras is the gala-day of the butchers; and the principal 
object of attraction is the procession, which is formed by them. 
It is but the remnant, however, of a great ceremony of olden 
times. The progress of modern refinement has gradually been 
detracting from the interest formerly attached to it, and soon, like 
others of these customs, it will fall into disuse, and finally be en- 
tirely neglected. From the fact of an ox, the largest and fattest 
that can be found, being led around the city in triumphal proces- 
sion, and afterwards slaughtered, I have thought, that it might be 
the remnant of some religious solemnity, and that the ox was 
sacrificed to Jupiter, or some of the other heathen divinities. As 
it is, I will attempt a slight description. In order to make the 
entire circuit of the city, to visit the numerous public slaughter- 
houses, two days are employed ; Mardi-Gras or Shrove Tuesday, 
and the Sunday preceding. They visit the King, the Ministers 
of State, and other functionaries. I was present at the Palace of 
the Tuilleries on the visitation to Louis Philippe. First, sedately 
marched a detachment of the Municipal Guards, then a band of 
musicians, each in a different dress of the most fantastic charac- 
ter, playing the popular airs of the day. These were followed 
by a detachment of young butchers on horseback, whose garbs 
represented the fashions of the courtiers of by-gone days. Sur- 
rounded by six or eight athletic men, bearing axes and other im- 
plements of this kind with wreaths upon their heads, who might 
be called the pall-bearers, came the colossal ox — the renowned 
Plre Goriot, as he is styled — having a velvet mantle trimmed 
with gold lace upon his back, and his silvered horns glistening in 
the sunbeams. For a wonder the sun shone brightly for the 
first time during many weeks. In fear that he might be unable 
to walk two days in this procession, his place was filled on Sun- 
day by one of the five others, who were competitors for the honors 
of Mardi-Gras. After him came a triumphal car, drawn by four 
horses in gorgeous trappings, in which were eight or ten of the 
butchers, apparently representing the mythological divinities. In 



40 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



their midst was a young child of some five years of age, who is 
called " V Amour" He was clothed in a white muslin frock, with 
short sleeves. Around his head was a wreath of roses. I pitied 
this child, for the day was very cold. On the Sunday previous 
his little arms were purple, and he trembled involuntarily. En- 
veloped in a cloak and in my thick clothing, I was uncomfortable 
on this, one of the coldest days of the season. In the court yard 
of the palace the procession halted. The King, Queen, and the 
young Count of Paris, the heir to the throne, came out upon the 
balcony, and saluted the dense crowd, which filled the place. It 
grieved me to notice the feeble shouts of the people at the ap* 
pearance of the King. I longed to hear those old walls ring, 
and his ears to be regaled with such huzzas as greet Daniel Web- 
ster, or any of our great men, when coming before the people. I 
was sorry to see another proof of the little appreciation the peo- 
ple have for a monarch, the wisest in the world, who consults 
with great tact the best interests of France. 

At a sign from the King, the cortege dismounted, and, while 
some danced the Polka to the fine music of the band, others at 
his particular invitation, entered the palace, bearing with them 
"Love," who probably was not sorry to have an opportunity to 
warm his chilled members. During this interview, an incident 
worthy of notice occurred. While the attention of the royal 
family was otherwise directed, one of the butchers, in the garb 
of a courtier of the time of Louis XIV, made his appearance in 
the balcony, which a short time previous had been occupied by 
the King. He was received by the crowd with great cheering. 
A liveried menial, authoritatively striking him upon the back, 
soon brought him to nis proper place. The interview finished, 
they returned to their proper stations, the cortege again com- 
menced its march, the King retired, and shortly after the court- 
yard was empty. The poor ox too soon finished his journey, and 
duly killed and dressed, was eaten, a portion by the royal family 
of France, another portion forwarded to London, formed a part 
of the Lent dinner of Queen Victoria and her spouse — Marshal 
Soult and the other ministers shared the remainder — and thus 
ended the days of the Pere Goriot of 1845. 



BASTRINGUES.— TRAITEURS. 41 

The evening of this day was spent by many of the inhabitants 
of Paris, in attending the masked balls, of which there were some 
twenty. The balls at the barriers were also fully attended. These 
are at the places called Bastringues. Outside of the barriers are 
the houses and gardens of traiteurs, a kind of victualler. They 
are called guinguettes ; and here the lower classes resort in great 
numbers to drink and to eat ; for the wine and provisions not hav- 
ing paid the tax, which is levied by the government on every 
article brought within the city walls, can be afforded of a better 
quality for the same money. For instance, a bottle of Burgundy 
wine pays eight cents duty, and is worth twenty cents in the city. 
In these guinguettes it may be obtained for nearly half the money. 
When a guinguette adds an orchestra and a ball-room to its other 
attractions, it is called a bastringue. At the barrier St. Martin 
there are numerous places of this sort, and, for a great number 
of years, there has existed a custom at the close of the Carnival, 
after finishing the bal-masqu£s of the city, for all the maskers 
to ride to this barrier. This has received the name of " the de- 
scent of the masks." In order to see it in the company of my 
friends, I arrived at the barrier at four o'clock, a. m. It being 
then too early, the city balls not having finished, we went into 
one of these bastringues. The price of admission was twenty 
cents, or one franc each, and entitled us to admission and a bottle 
of wine a-piece, either white or red Burgundy, and of quite a 
good quality. See us then entering with a bottle in one hand, a 
tumbler in the other, with hat askew, endeavoring to have the 
appearance of " being no better than we should be," — a very 
necessary precaution in this quarter of the city, and at this time 
of night. At tables around the room were seated the men, wo- 
men and children of the lowest classes of society, some eating, 
all drinking. The soiled dresses gave a not very pleasant odor 
to the place. On one side, an orchestra of perhaps a dozen mu- 
sicians were hard at work, and before them sixty or more dancing 
with great energy, evidently endeavoring to " get their money's 
worth." The space for dancing was surrounded by a fence, to 
keep off the crowd, for the dancers paid for each performance 
five cents. At the end of the figure the place was vacated, and 
3* 



42 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

a man at the gates took his toll on each one, as he entered. Some 
time was passed here quite pleasantly, but soon, the maskers 
beginning to arrive, we went into the street to view them. For 
several hours we stood witnessing the constant succession of car- 
riages passing by, filled with women and men, some having lan- 
terns or torches, laughing and shouting, and at seven in the morn- 
ing we retired, the current still rolling on. 

This custom, like many of the others connected with the ob- 
servance of the Carnival, is fast wearing away, and now it is 
observed more as a matter of habit, than one of real interest. 
Indeed, the observance of the ceremonies connected with the 
Catholic church, are here very much neglected. Their feast days 
and fast days pass like all others, and are known only by the 
sound of the bells, which announce them. If you enter the 
churches on any of these days, unless perhaps on Christmas, you 
find but very few worshippers. The marriages are solemnized in 
the churches, but those that are married are, when there, inat- 
tentive to the service, and employed, sometimes in conversing, 
sometimes in laughing. I have even seen the bridegroom with 
great difficulty restraining his laughter. The Catholic religion 
prescribes a peculiar diet for particular seasons, yet few conform 
to it, and, when asked the reason, and on being charged with not 
being Catholics, they reply, that they are Catholics, but not 
" devotes." I inquired of several, what they said when they went 
to confession ? They replied, that " they merely answered the 
questions of the priest." But did you not confess, literally speak- 
ing, any sin that you had committed ? " If he asked me, I did, 
sometimes." Thus, the confessional is merely a dead-letter, a 
form only. I am afraid that the character of the priests in gen- 
eral, is not such as to raise the standard of religion, or even of 
morality. Many of the better classes, of both sexes, have said to 
me, after conversing upon their habits with that freedom, which 
is done only in France, " I like the religion very much, but I do 
not like the priests." The grisettes have given me descriptions 
of their actions and conversation, even in the confessional, which 
are equal to anything in the book published as the disclosures of 
Maria Monk. For their truth I cannot vouch. They have, how- 



ORDER OF THE HOLY CROSS. 43 

ever, been told me by more than one, names mentioned, and 
even the churches to which they were attached, the description 
of the person, &c. &c. They are such, that if true* must neces- 
sarily sink their reputation in the eyes of every one. Is it 
strange, that with such a clergy, or at least with the general be- 
lief among the community of their character, that the reputation 
of the church should decline ? 

His holiness, the Pope,* is in not much better repute. False- 
hood, however, is the crime alleged to him. The passion for 
wearing decorations is here the mania, as that for wearing the title 
of Major, or General, is in the United States. The order of the 
Holy Cross, in the gift of the Pope, may be bought, as I am credi- 
bly informed, for fifty dollars, from his ambassador, and with it, a 
statement from the Pope himself, that it was earned by some meri- 
torious deed, which is mentioned with numerous particulars, done 
in behalf of the church. I question, if the Puseyites in receiv- 
ing the creed, accept the Pope and his clergy with it. The 
Protestants of Paris have a much higher reputation. They are 
styled by the Catholics devotes. 

* Gregory XVI. Since deceased. 



VIII. 

Weather — Fuel — Poor — Grand Opera — Viennese Dancing Girls — 
Carlotta Grisi — Duchess D'Aumale — Princess and Prince De 

JOINVILLE PERSIANI MARIO JULIA GrIZI. 

This has been an uncomfortable winter. I would not com- 
plain, merely because the French language is a stranger to the 
word comfort ; but the misery is, that comfort is not to be met 
with anywhere, neither in the language, nor the houses, nor the 
streets. Many of the latter are shockingly muddy and destitute 
of trottoirs ; and the sidewalks, where any exist, are so narrow, 
that it is necessary to step into the gutter, to permit another per- 
son to pass. Without being very cold, the weather is often ex- 
cessively chilly. On the day of the meeting of the Chamber of 
Deputies in the latter part of December, a fog, as dense as any 
that float over the river Connecticut in a summer's morning, en- 
veloped the city, completely shrouding the king and the whole 
military host from view. It lasted all the day and night, the 
impenetrable darkness of which resisting every effort to disperse 
it by extra lights at the corners of the streets, occasioned serious 
accidents. Such is the state of things abroad. The administra- 
tion of affairs within doors is very little better. In the ordinary 
sort of residences, a room is separated from the rest of the house 
by a frame covered with paper. The windows are large, and 
open with a hinge. These are frail defences against a wintry 
atmosphere ; for snow and ice are not uncommon visitants at 
Paris. The means of warming these airy dwellings is, perhaps, a 
white China stove ; and the heat, evolved by the combustion of 
green wood, of course takes French leave up the chimney. I 
believe it impossible to get dry wood here, because it is sold by 
weight. 

44 



THE POOR.— THE GRAND OPERA. 45 

For several days past, the weather has been cold and warm, 
wet and dry. The thermometer has fallen to 14° Fahrenheit, and 
the cold has quite terrified the people, unaccustomed to such 
severity. The Seine was frozen over a few days, sufficiently to 
suspend navigation. This, apparently a trivial matter, was of 
very great importance to the inhabitants, especially the poor; 
for the suspension of navigation immediately produced an ad- 
vance in the price of coal of five cents on the hundred pounds. 
The French custom, which exists among the better classes from 
inclination, and among the lower from necessity, of living from 
" hand to mouth," obliges them to purchase fuel every week ; so 
that, in case of obstruction in navigation, the stock on hand is 
soon exhausted ; especially at this time, when the consumption 
is much more rapid than usual, in consequence of the augmented 
rigor of the weather. Thus the great evil in this, as in most 
other cases, in France, falls upon the poor. Several slight show- 
ers of snow, which covered the dirty streets with a white coat of 
some two inches in thickness, has entirely destroyed the equili- 
brium of the people. Were they half as active in removing the 
slimy, slippery, filth, which fills most of the thoroughfares, as 
they are in carting away this cleanly visitor, more might be said 
of their neatness, which cannot now be included in the catalogue 
of their virtues. Indeed, the papers are loud in their praises of 
the department for putting three thousand workmen (half wo- 
men !) and six hundred carts, in employ to remove the snow, and 
empty it into the Seine. 

Saturday evening I attended the Grand Opera, on the occa- 
sion of the benefit of thirty-six young dancing girls from Vienna. 
These children are between the ages of four and fifteen years, 
and their astonishing performances have drawn a crowd during 
six weeks> which has filled the largest theatre in Paris. On this 
evening, notwithstanding the prices were nearly doubled, (vary- 
ing from one dollar to four, according to the situation) the house 
was crammed to its utmost capacity. The play of Moliere's 
Le Bourgeoise Gentilhomme, afforded an excellent opportu- 
nity for these performers. The Polka and Mazourka were intro- 
duced with great effect. The novel and difficult figures, and the 



46 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

extraordinary skill of these little children, brought down thunders 
of applause. Though viewing them with pleasure, I could not 
banish the thought, that their lot at present was similar to that 
of dancing dogs ; that their wonderful art and grace were not 
acquired in the splendid satin robes, which they then wore, but 
in soiled rags, and at the expense of reproofs and blows. Their 
sweet countenances, as yet unused to dissimulation, too plainly 
revealed the fact, that this exhibition, causing transports to 
others, was a weary labor to them. But when the beholder 
thinks of their future life, his pleasure is still further diminished. 
Young and innocent now, very soon they become kept mistress- 
es, and their descent is afterwards rapid to the condition of the 
common courtezan, the street-sweeper, the inmate of the hospital, 
the subject of the dissecting-room ! Here we leave them — the 
secrets of another world are not, as yet, unfolded. 

The " Ball of Gustavus," among others of reputation, intro- 
duced Mademoiselle Carlotta Grisi, who, after Ellsler and Cerito, 
holds the first rank as a dancer ; Taglioni's departure from the 
stage making her the third on the list. According to the opin- 
ion of many, sanctioned by the general applause, which she 
elicited, 

" She ne'er danced better, 

Every footstep fell as lightly 

As the moonbeam on the waters." 

In the concluding dance by the Viennese, some one, instead of 
a bouquet, more wisely threw upon the stage several boxes of 
sugar-plums, the breaking of which caused more activity than 
grace among them. Those, who thought them Cupids before, 
suffered a terrible shock in their feelings by the sudden meta- 
morphosis. 

Among the distinguished, spectators were the Duchess D'Au- 
male, and the Princess and Prince de Joinville. The keenest 
aspirer for rank and station, unless totally devoid of taste, would 
hesitate to accept the eminence of the young prince, if he were 
obliged to take with it the princess also. To be sure, he would 
possess a princess of Brazil, and a heap of gold and diamonds, 
but with them must be included a face, whose most prominent 



DUCHESS D'AUMALE.—GRISI.— PERSIANI, &c. 47 

characteristic is a long nose, which does not appear less long, or 
ugly, because it is princely ; a skin probably colored by contact 
with Brazilian gold; and a neck, which, though rivaling the 
swan's in length, certainly does not in whiteness, or in grace. 
Her head-dress, of flamingo colors, was deficient in that taste, 
which belongs to every French woman of the realm. The 
Duchess D'Aumale, though coming from the extreme south of 
Italy, has the complexion of a Saxon. Her face, devoid of color, 
is deformed by a nose, Avhich, sympathising with her neighbor's 
in length, has apparently received some blow, which renders it 
somewhat of a pug. This is a term I desire to use with diffi- 
dence, because I fear it may not be often heard at court in rela- 
tion to the nasal organs of royalty. If not, you must pardon me 
for the sake of the truth which it expresses. A feather of a 
bluish tint was very well arranged, and dropped gracefully over 
the left ear. In short, neither they, nor the prince, were adapted 
to make a favorable impression on one, whose ideas of the beauty 
of princesses and princes had been drawn from his researches 
in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments. 

Last evening was the benefit of Madame Grisi, at the Italian 
Opera, and a large company of auditors " assisted," as the 
French phrase has it, at the representation. The evening per- 
formances commenced with the first act of ' La Ssomnambula,' by 
Bellini, in which Madame Persiani, and Monsieur Mario sung 
most delightfully. The praises of both of these celebrated ac- 
tors have been wafted all over the wbrld ; it is therefore needless 
for me to attempt a description. Her voice is not powerful, but 
sweet and flexible, and lingers on the ear long after its sounds 
have died away. It is in her graceful execution, that she is most 
distinguished. All vocalists know the great difficulty of singing 
softly, and at the same time well. But Persiani executes the 
most difficult strains upon the lowest and highest keys alike, in 
the most touching manner, when the least noise in the house 
would entirely drown her notes. Her shakes and trills, like the 
motion of the trembling leaves of the silver aspen, which rustle 
without a breath of wind, are performed without apparent effort. 
In personal appearance it cannot be denied, that she is rather 



48 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

plain. " I would not hear her enemies say so." The critics, I 
believe, give her the palm among the artists in Paris. 

Mario is by birth a Prince of Italy, but, like many others of 
that country, was poor. If he is so now, it is his own fault, as 
his large salary at this theatre, and in London, if saved, would 
soon enrich him. In point of rank, he stands below the celebrat- 
ed Rubini, now in St. Petersburg. His voice is a fine tenor, sweet 
and flexible, and is augmented in compass by a falsetto of very 
superior excellence. As an actor, he is not distinguished. The 
second piece, the famous Norma, likewise by Bellini, exhibited 
Grisi in her best character. The residents in and around New 
Jersey, are all familiar with the Opera ; but were they to witness 
the " queen of song," in this her best part, I think they would 
be obliged to confess, that " the half had never been told them !" 

Though to Grisi, as a singer, is assigned by the critics a rank 
inferior to Persiani, and Dorus Gras of the French Opera, her 
performances are much better liked. This is because she com- 
bines beauty with tragic and musical talent. As a beauty, she is 
not precisely what we should call so in America, where women, 
thus distinguished mast not very much exceed the age of twenty 
years. At forty-fi^e, Madame Grisi is not a rose-bud, but the 
full blown flower. In her, one looks in vain for the delicious tint 
of youth, but this by gaslight is not much needed. In its place 
shines out the matured woman. Her face is oval, full, with regu- 
lar features, Grecian nose, exquisitely beautiful teeth, and black, 
glossy hair, which, in length and beauty, rivals George Sands' 
description of the famous chevelure, of the Princess Quintiliau. 
Her eyes may be gray, or blue, or black. One can scarcely 
seize their color, so changeable are they every moment. The 
expression of the countenance, when at rest, is sad, melancholy ; 
but, when excited by the character which she personates, it vivid- 
ly reflects her varying emotions. As a tragedian, I have seen no 
equal in her sex. In the distinct line of tragedy, where plain 
prose is unencumbered with musical expression, I question, if she 
does not surpass even Rachel herself. Though laboring under 
this serious disadvantage, her passages are enunciated with start- 
ling impetuosity. Her tones and acts of tenderness, or passion, 



MADAME GRISI. 49 



possess a truthfulness, which find a response in the breast of 
every hearer. If inferior in talent and cultivation, as a singer, 
to Persiani, or Dorus G-ras, which I am, myself, unwilling to allow, 
her immensely powerful voice, far superior to either of her rivals, 
added to her imposing presence, and tragic force, renders her by 
far the superior artist. This is evident from the fact, that she is 
engaged for the coming season in London at the Queen's Theatre, 
while Persiani is rejected. 

It is really a pity, that one, so distinguished for talents, should 
be almost as much so for her gallantry. Her history, as far as I 
can learn, is substantially this. She was born in a small village 
near Milan, where she first appeared. Nothing very remarkable 
distinguished her performances there. For several years she sang 
unnoticed, till accident brought her to Paris. Following the for- 
tunes of a banished lover, she broke her theatrical engagement, 
and the, next, we hear of her is on the French stage, and at the 
same time the mistress of an English nobleman. Her beauty and 
talents induced Lord Castlereagh to overlook her character as a 
woman, and he soon after married her. After a few years, being 
divorced by law, and once more free, she lived with the celebrat- 
ed composer Bellini (who wrote for her ' / Puritani,') till his 
death, when she passed to the great singer Rubini, now at St. 
Petersburg. On his departure, his place in the affections of this 
apparently easily pleased woman, was soon supplied by his suc- 
cessor at the opera, Mario. This lady, whose talents and beauty 
may shade, but cannot conceal her faults, was received oh this 
night of her benefit with boundless plaudits, and pelted with 
bouquets throughout the evening. At the close of the perfor- 
mance, when called out to receive the homage of the audience, 
her path was literally on flowers. " Wreaths and bouquets almost 
covered the stage, thrown by the fair hands of the nobility and 
beauty of France. Her salary for six months in Paris is sixty 
thousand dollars, and it is the same in London. 



IX. 

Love of Country — Danger of Assassination — Tapis Francs— Prev* 

ALENCE OF CRIME THE MORGUE HENRI HeRZ CONCERT OF SlX* 

teen Pianos and Thirty-two Players — Priests — Midwifery- 
Artificial Arm. 

The reception of letters from home, after a lapse of almost 
five months without the least tidings, has a very enlivening effect* 
I' am astonished at the avidity with which I seek for news from 
America, though of persons and things of which I possessed no 
previous knowledge : every thing is attended with interest. Ah ! 
the ties that bind one to his country are strong indeed. They 
live in the forest of his recollections. They are bound strongly 
around the family tree, and run along its numerous branches, 
They cling to the stumps of old friendships, which seem to have 
received new life, and wind themselves around the unfading 
image of schoolboy days, which, like the solitary pine, a scathed 
and blackened remnant of a noble company, that have passed 
away forever, still exists, a pleasant vision in the soul, though 
draped by sorrow and bereavement. They are twisted together 
with old loves, which, though their verdant tops have been long 
since dead, remain firmly fixed in the heart. 

One may well think of home, when it is so uncertain whether 
he will ever see again the shores of his native country. Not only 
does he encounter the chances of a natural death from change 
of elimate, the dangers of the sea, and the accidents of travel by 
land, but even when quietly at rest in his Paris home, he is sub- 
ject to one unknown in the United States. The hazard of assas- 
sination is by no means slight, and is equally dreaded by the 
man of courage and the timid. To give you a faint conception, 
I will mention a few circumstances, which have lately happened 

50 



TAPIS FRANCS.— PREVALENCE OF CRIME. 51 

in this city, filled as it is with troops constantly on guard in nu- 
merous places ; with agents of police, and secret spies of govern- 
ment. One can scarcely go ten steps at midday or midnight, 
without meeting some of these gentry. Notwithstanding this, a 
young woman walking, a short time ago, through the very heart 
of the city, was met, near the Italian Opera House, by a well- 
dressed man, who, after passing her, turned suddenly round, and 
placed a mask of pitch upon her face, so that she could neither 
call for assistance, nor even breathe. He bound her fast, and, 
after robbing her of one dollar and seventy-five cents, left her to 
her fate. Fortunately, she was soon discovered and her mask 
removed, before she was entirely suffocated. This was trans- 
acted almost under the eyes of the guard, and at only eleven 
o'clock at night. 

Scarcely two weeks ago, the police surrounded the gum- 
guettes and tapis francs, at the barrier of St. Martin's, which 
I visited a short time before, and gave you a slight description of, 
in a recent letter. The readers of Eugene Sue's " Mysteries of 
Paris," very well know the character of the tapis franc. They 
took from them two hundred and ninety-nine persons, and put 
them into prison. On a subsequent examination, one hundred 
and ninety-nine of them, who could give a satisfactory account 
of their manner of living, were set at liberty. The remaining 
one hundred are retained for trial. Among them are numerous 
murderers, thieves, and other felons. An entire band of assas- 
sins and thieves, to the number of eighteen, was included in this 
single draught of the net of the police. 

In a part of one of these tapis francs, called the Cave, was 
found the body of a murdered man. 

Ten days ago, the chief of a band of murderers and robbers 
was guillotined. Though but twenty-three years of age, young 
Fourrier had confessedly killed twenty-four men ! I hope that 
this is not a specimen of the Fourrier system, which my friend 
Horace Greely so warmly and ably advocates. I saw his body 
and head in the dissecting-room. His physiognomy would not 
lead any one to doubt the truth of the charges alleged against him. 
A carriage was stopped, a few nights since, in front of Meu- 



52 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

rice's Hotel — the resort of all American and English travellers — 
and its occupants plundered at nine in the eve ! Coming still 
nearer, only Monday evening last, in the next street to me, a man 
was assassinated and robbed of two or three dollars at ten 
o'clock in the night. In this short street there is a guard-house, 
and having a friend residing there, I have been accustomed to 
pass through it at all hours of the night. 

Some of my brave Americans may ask me, " Why do you not 
carry arms, so that when you see a suspicious individual ap- 
proaching you may be ready ?" In answer to this I say, the 
assassins are not suspicious looking individuals. As you are 
walking in the street, you pass a well-dressed man, who instantly 
turns, and the first suspicion of your danger is derived from feel- 
ing a poniard in the back. 'Tis then too late to stand on the 
defensive, and draw your dagger. In a moment you are robbed, 
and thrown over the quay into the Seine. The next morning 
your friends, seeking for you, find your body in the Morgue. 

This structure has been often described. It is a building ap- 
propriated for a receptacle of all persons found dead in the city. 
As I pass by it, on my way to the hospital " Hotel-Dieu," I fre- 
quently look in. What tales of suffering those gloomy walls 
might tell, could they but echo back the groans of the many 
wretches, that have therein been deposited ! The poor seduced 
girl, who in despair has thrown herself from the quay into the 
rapid, turbid Seine, is fished up, brought hither, stripped of all 
her clothing, which is hung up by her side, a soiled cloth placed 
upon her loins, and exposed for public exhibition. Here, too, is 
brought the miserable and decrepid man, who has dxed from cold 
and hunger at the corner of a street. But no one claims his 
withered, meagre body, and he is carried to the silent tomb in a 
coffin of rough boards, without a relative to follow him to the 
grave, or a friend to shed a tear. Poverty begets no friends. 

To change the subject, let me tell you of a concert which I 
attended on the 20th. It was given by the celebrated Henri 
Herz, whose music is in the hands of every one in the United 
States. It was held at half-past one o'clock, p. m., in his saloon. 
This is one of the most magnificent rooms in Paris. Its lofty 



HENRI HERZ. 53 



walls are supported by numerous richly carved and gilt pillars, 
and ornamented with portraits in fresco of Weber, Beethoven, 
and others. The whole interior was radiant with gold, and this 
morning, with diamonds, bright eyes, and beaming faces. The 
performances consisted principally of duos, trios, and quartettes 
upon the piano, by the pupils of Herz, together with some fine 
solo singing and solos on the violin and bass-viol, or as more fash- 
ionably styled, violincello. Herz himself assisted in one piece, 
but it was not one calculated to exhibit his powers. The most 
peculiar compositions were the following : " Overture of ' Puits 
d'Amour,' Balfe, arranged for fifteen pianos by M. Billard, and 
executed by thirty pupils." " Overture of ' Semiramide,' Rosini, 
arranged for sixteen pianos and executed by thirty-two pupils. 
These were produced with very fine effect. Such a number of 
instruments of this kind played together, is, I think, a novelty, 
even in Paris. This concert was entirely gratuitous, and intend- 
ed to exhibit the proficiency of the pupils, many of whom had 
gained prizes. The pianists were all young girls, whose ages va- 
ried from twelve to twenty. The youngest indeed executed as 
well, if not better, than any of the others. In short, it was a 
performance which well sustained the reputation of their instructor. 
In music and dancing one frequently has a pot-pourri. I think, 
that a similar melange of tittle-tattle, odds-and-ends, and gossip, 
may well enough serve the turn of bringing this letter to a close. 
Yoila ! Two great men honor Paris with their presence, Lord 
Brougham, and General Tom Thumb. M. Michelet, the celebra- 
ted lecturer and writer, has lately issued a work, of which the 
first edition was almost immediately sold ; the second edition be- 
ing issued in three weeks. It is entitled " The priest, the wife, 
the family." The attack, commenced in previous works against the 
clergy, as at present existing, is kept up with great spirit. M. 
Michelet lectures three times a week at the college of France to a 
most crowded audience, who come from half-an-hour to an-hour 
beforehand to obtain a seat. A celebrated Abbe who has attempt- 
ed to answer his charges, lecturing with more warmth than judg- 
ment, has been compelled to discontinue his course by order of 
government. 

4 



54 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

The treatise on Midwifery by Chailly, of this city, translated by 
Dr. Bedford of New York, has passed into a second edition here, 
much augmented, and improved. The medical community await 
with great impatience a treatise on the same subject by the cele- 
brated Paul Dubois, who is at the head of this branch in France. 
It is the labor of many years, and besides containing all the pre- 
vious information in relation to it up to the present time, will be 
enriched with new matter, derived from the investigation of its 
talented author. It is said that the work is already in the bands 
of the publishers. 

Another hospital is shortly to be commenced in this city, to be 
called the Louis Philippe. 

M. Magendie read on Monday last, in the name of a committee 
of the Academy, composed of Messrs Gambey, Velpeau, Rayer 
and Magendie, a report upon an artificial arm presented by M. 
Van Petersen, a Dutch sculptor. " It is not one of the least pro- 
digies of human industry to be able in some sort to re-construct 
the work of the Creator by repairing destroyed organs, and even 
replacing them entirely, by means of mechanical apparatus. The 
new invention, which M. Magendie has made known to the Acade- 
my, the object of which is to replace the entire arm, and even 
both of them, is certainly one of the boldest of its kind ; and the 
service, which it promises to render to a large number of mutil- 
ated unfortunates, accounts for the interest with which the com- 
mittee are examining it. To replace the arm and hand in all the 
extent, variety, rapidity and precision, which nature has given to 
the motion of this member, is doubtless a thing impossible ; and 
the inventor exhibits no such lofty pretensions. He proposes 
only to give to persons deprived of their arms, the power of per- 
forming for themselves actions the most simple and necessary to 
existence. The committee of the Academy have seen the inven- 
tion of M. Van Petersen upon five mutilated individuals, and 
among others upon an invalid, who has been deprived of both 
arms ever since the wars of the empire, and who, by the aid of 
two artificial arms, took with his hand a full glass, carried it to 
his mouth, drank from it without spilling a drop, and then re- 
placed the glass upon the table, from which he had taken it. 



ARTIFICIAL ARM. 55 



This same disabled man can pick up a pin, take hold of a sheet 
of paper, &c. 

The artificial arm of M. Van Petersen, is not adapted indiffer- 
ently to all, who have lost an arm ; those only, who have pre- 
served untouched the superior part of the humerus, are fitted to 
profit by it, and it can render no service to those who have no 
stump, and have submitted to an amputation of the shoulder. 
The invention is composed of three parts, articulated and move- 
able, which represents the arm, the forearm, and the hand. This 
last composes a kind of wrist, with fingers of triple phalanges, 
moveable, and maintained in a firm state of flexion and resistance 
with the thumb by springs. The whole weighs scarcely five hun- 
dred grammes, (equal to about a pound of the standard weight 
of the mint of Paris.) The stump of the maimed arm is received 
in a cavity of the machine, and the following is the contrivance, 
by the aid of which M. Van Petersen has succeeded in making 
the different parts play upon one another. A corset is fastened 
over the breast. To this corset are attached catgut string's, some 
of which are fixed to the forearm, others to the fingers. When 
the maimed man carries the stump forward, he exerts attraction 
upon the forearm, and bends it on the arm. When, on the con- 
trary, he moves it backward, the forearm stretches out upon the 
arm. It is by this double movement, that the hand is carried to, 
or removed from, the mouth. The movements of the fingers are 
produced by analogous mechanism ; and the committee have 
been struck with the celerity and precision, to which mutilated 
persons have arrived in executing them. The idea of employing 
a corset, as a support necessary to overcome the resistance of 
mechanical fingers shut by springs, is not new. Quite recently, 
Grafe had indicated the part, which might be drawn upon for the 
construction of a mechanical arm ; but no one, until now, has 
been able to execute this project, at least with the success which 
M. Van Petersen has obtained. The committee think, that the 
invention of the latter is preferable to any, that has been pre- 
viously conceived with the same design. They hope, that the 
author will be able to improve it still further, and especially to 
reduce its price, so as to render it accessible to the amputated 
poor and to mutilated soldiers." 



X. 

Fashions— Birth-Day of Washington — Ball of the American Min- 
ister — Expenses of the Embassy — Ball of the Cafe Tortoni. 

"What!" — I think I hear the ladies say-—" so many weari- 
some long letters, and not a line about the idol of our hearts ! 
Among dingy princesses with long noses, and splendid actresses 
with short-comings, the empress herself, who rules them all, has 
been wholly overlooked. And this, too, in her own metropolis, 
and in the very seat of her fascinating court. How is it, that 
you only find time to prose away about women who wear masks 
and breeches, and poor he-devils too indigent to get either; 
artistes of good heels, or voices, rewarded with salaries of one 
hundred thousand dollars a year, and miserable beings, of good 
hearts, who starve in the shadow of the theatres and opera 
houses, where crowds are paying their costly and noisy homage 
to those frail divinities that reign within ? Pray, say no more 
about a nation who cannot do without a king, and yet don't 
know when they have got a good one — till you have told us 
what the fashion is." 

Really, I wonder at the oversight myself. Beside a dozen 
more as good, the intrinsic difficulty of the subject must be an 
ample apology. The painter could not catch the Protean fea- 
tures of the inimitable Garrick. Which of you can stay the eva- 
nescent shapes and tints of the sunset clouds, while you are put- 
ting them down upon the canvas ? If one passes along the 
streets of Paris to see the mode, he is, at the very outset, " in 
a sea of trouble." Two persons can hardly be met with, who 
agree in dress. Enter into any place, a hat or bonnet shop, for 
instance, and inquire for their goods in the best style, a half dozen 



FASHIONS. 57 



will be shown, all of which the polite tenders assure you, 
are equally in the fashion, and equally worn. Every body in the 
the United States knows very well, that the fashions there origi- 
nate in Paris ; but, every body asks, whence do the Parisians 
get them? This is the important secret, which I am about 
to tell. It was disclosed to me by the highest possible author- 
ity — which you will all acknowledge to be so, too — a milliner 
in the best street in the Latin quarter, where I reside. In the 
meantime, pray ladies don't allow yourselves to be thinking of 
caps and bonnets, for if you do, not all the " Brown's and Pres- 
ton's Inexhaustible Smelling Salts " will prevent a hysterical fit, 
after you have heard the secret. When I certify, that this ac- 
complished woman has had twenty years' experience in the busi- 
ness, I think you will allow, that I know how fashions are in- 
vented without the shadow of a doubt. 

Take a stroll in Broadway on any fine day, and you will ob- 
serve, that every one is dressed alike. The coat is cut the same, 
the pants are apparently turned out by a machine, and boots 
have toes of the same curve, and heels of the same height. I 
wonder, if those petit-maitres, who plume themselves on being 
Men chausse, know, that stable-boys in Paris sport French boots. 
If they are indeed aware of this surprising fact, is it not strange, 
that they should worship them, as they do ? The freedom ex- 
isting here in the selection of one's dress allows, it must be 
obvious, the exercise of taste. If any one is pleased to think, 
that a particular shape, or combination of color would be becom- 
ing, a garment is forthwith constructed according to her fancy. 
Another is struck with the phenemenon, approves its taste, and 
straightway orders one like it. Thus many styles have at the 
same time their respective partizans ; but that which obtains the 
largest suffrage is said to culminate, and is thenceforth pro- 
nounced the fashion. Thereupon it is forwarded to America, 
and seized upon in haste by all, each expanding its peculiarities in 
the most outre manner, in her eagerness to outdo her neighbors. 
and become the most fashionable. One says, that bustles are the 
fashion ; yet six in Paris might be made of the hair, straw, bran 
or cotton, that go to the composition of one, which forms the 



58 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



beautiful outline of a Broadway belle. At present, indeed, an- 
other texture is said to usurp the throne ; but it is not to be 
expected, that I should know any thing concerning it. 

At several recent balls, where I have been present, I observed 
the different toilets quite critically ; but it is a difficult matter to 
decide what was the rage, silks or satins, muslins or velvets. In 
one thing all agreed, that diamond tiaras, necklaces, ear-rings, &c. 
&c, were in good taste, provided the stones were as large as 
small filberts. The toilet for young men consists of black dress 
coat and pants, vest of white marseilles embroidered, with a cra- 
vat of black satin, or white stamped cotton, only long enough to 
tie in front ; or a vest of cassimere embroidered with silk, with 
a white cravat, as above. Full toilet requires pumps and silk 
hose. 

Last evening was passed by most of the Americans in Paris in 
the same manner as they have been accustomed to spend at home 
the anniversary of the birth of Washington. Mr. King, our ex- 
cellent minister at the court of France, opened his house on this 
occasion for the reception of the Americans in Paris, and such 
others as were interested in the welfare of America. This was 
the first ball that his health has permitted him to give this win- 
ter, and I think, since his arrival in the country. Unfortunately 
the change, from the dry and warm atmosphere of his own state 
to this constantly damp and cold city, prevents his seeing his 
countrymen so often as his natural hospitality would dictate. At 
this time, however, the Americans in Paris were collected togeth- 
er for the first time. I found several old acquaintances and 
townsmen, who I imagined to be still at home, where I had left 
them. It was quite late, near eleven o'clock, when I arrived, 
having been detained by the breaking down of my hack. As I 
entered the spacious apartments, and saw the graceful forms in 
the mazes of the whirling waltz, I did not think the Americans 
were far behind the French, either in beauty or any other respect. 
The only ornament to the rooms was a portrait of Washington, a 
copy by Healy, from the celebrated original, belonging, I believe, 
but am not sure, to Lord Landsdown. It was, at any rate, a por- 
trait of the incomparable Washington, and that was enough to 



BIRTH-DAY OF WASHINGTON. 59 

arouse all our patriotic ardor. It is strange, how little the 
French know of this great man. One of them, on reading my 
invitation, which stated that it was in honor of the birth of Wash- 
ington, very inquisitively asked, Vashington, Vashington, qui 
est cet Vashington la ? At the palace of Versailles there is a 
picture representing a scene in American history, where General 
Rochambeau is placed in a most conspicuous situation, and 
Washington is cast quite into the shade by his greatness. Ex- 
otics and other flowers embellished, and, at the same time, scat- 
tered delightful odors throughout the saloons. Surrounded by 
those who spoke the same language, and whose breasts were 
swelled by similar emotions for the first time in this land of 
strangers, I felt myself at home. Here were fair examples of 
the grace and beauty of the cities of New York, Philadelphia, 
Boston, Charleston, New Orleans, as well as specimens of no- 
bility and station in the persons of the Prince and Princess de 
Joinville, Duke de Montpensier, the Austrian, Prussian, and 
other repsesentatives at this Court, and many of the nobility of 
England and other countries. The news of the decease of the 
brother of the British Ambassador prevented the attendance of 
Lord Cowley. I had the honor of dancing the Polka several 
times with a pretty, graceful, and animated grand-daughter of 
General Lafayette. The present consul, Mr. Walsh, the ex-con- 
sul Mr. Draper, and their families, were among the guests. 
Mons. Guizot, whose health would not allow him to be there in 
person, sent his regrets, stating his great respect for the memory 
of the illustrious American patriot. 

With such music, as was poured around by Tolbecque, and 
his celebrated band, which never fails to infuse life and activity 
into all, who could possibly stand still? Polkas, mazourkas, 
waltzes, deux temps et trois, and quadrilles permitted the taste of 
every one to be gratified. Moreover, we discovered that " Yan- 
kee Doodle" makes a capital quadrille. 

An excellent table in an adjoining room, loaded with every 
delicacy, allowed the guests to refresh themselves as they wished. 
Behind it the head servant of Mr. King directed his assistants. 
He is a tall, intelligent negro, and appears devotedly attached to 



60 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

his master. I said to him one day, " I am very glad to see you, 
it looks to me so much like home." " Ah, yes," said he, " but it is 
not home ; I shall be glad to return." This man, though free, 
and in a country where the blacks and whites are on an equal 
footing, and beautiful white women are occasionally seen prome- 
nading arm-in-arm with them in the streets, and though gratified 
here with having numerous white servants under his direction, 
still prefers his southern home, with all the degradations to which 
he is there exposed. At four o'clock the ball broke up, the or- 
chestra playing " Hail Columbia," which received the plaudits 
of the company, when all returned to their temporary homes, to 
dream, I fancy, of their real ones, so far distant. 

The American Minister is about to exchange this house for 
a smaller. His expenses, though giving few dinner parties and 
no balls, amount to scarcely less than seventy dollars a day. The 
wood bill alone for a year is fourteen hundred dollars. I was on 
the point of exclaiming, increase the salaries of the French and 
English ambassadors, or else abolish their offices, when a sudden 
thought, quite checked my indignation. How many men have 
sacrificed, and are perhaps this moment sacrificing their ease, 
and, I am afraid, in some cases, their consciences too, at home, 
in order to obtain these same costly, but honorable, offices abroad ! 

Writing to you of one party reminds me of another, which I 
attended lately. A slight description of it may give some notion 
of the difference between the customs of this city and the United 
States, which, for convenience sake, I hope may some time or 
other be expressed by a more appropriate name. I would not 
quarrel with Atlanta or Telluria, Columbia, Yankeedom, or Inter- 
oceanos, since I could then inform a questioner who I am, which 
is not an easy thing to do at present. 

The party was given at the cafe Tortoni, on the Boulevard des 
Italiens. Who, that has ever been at Paris, has not often heard 
of the celebrated ices of the cafe Tortoni ? I do not say ice 
creams, because they are composed of neither cream nor milk ; 
but flavored with every article almost that man was ever induced 
to taste from the beginning of time till now. Raspberry, straw- 
berry, lemon, and such like, of course, are used, and chocolate, 



BALL OF THE CAFE TORTONI. 61 

coffee, rum, and all sorts of liqueurs. Thinking of these unpar- 
alleled manufactures has involuntarily led my pen astray ; pardon ! 
we will return to the ball. 

Madame, the hostess, unfortunately knew few gentlemen, and, 
as French ladies drink no tea, she justly considered that a party 
of none but ladies might possibly be quite stupid. I think, my- 
self, she was right. But how could she obtain these desirable 
gentlemen, namely, those who could dance, and waltz, and polka ? 
You will be surprised to be informed, that half the gentlemen 
have not these valuable gifts, though we have always thought 
that Frenchmen brought them with them at their birth. So she 
asked a friend of hers to invite six gentlemen to come and dance, 
eat her ices, and be agreeable. Unluckily, the male acquaint- 
ances of her friend proved to be not more numerous than her 
own, so she asked my hostess — who asked me, and I — asked three 
American friends. On my accepting, the husband of the friend 
came to make my acquaintance the evening of the ball. We 
agreed to meet at the place. Arriving there before him, we in- 
tended to wait in the anteroom till his appearance. In this we 
were prevented by the host, who, on hearing the name of the 
person who invited us, insisted on our entering. When the gen- 
tleman and his wife came, he introduced me to her, to whom I 
introduced my friends, after which he introduced us all to the 
lady of the house. 

This is all that etiquette demands. One asks anybody to dance 
with him, whether an acquaintance or not ; and after the dance 
is finished, it is the lady who says, " I am much obliged to you !" 
When I heard this first, I was astonished. I thought it was 
something peculiar and extraordinary, began to be a little proud, 
and replied, " Certainly not ; it is I that am indebted." I here 
began to feel the risings of a Turkish sentiment, and to question, 
whether, after all, it is not, in reality, I that do the favor. Such 
is the effect of custom. 
4* 



XL 

The Prado— ^NeW Year's Day — Greetings in private Life — To Mitt* 
tary Officers of the National Guards — To the King by fifteen 
hundred Drummers ! — Champs Elysees — Place Concorde — Obelisk 
of Luxor— Goat Carriages — Learned Dogs — Punch and Judy. 

I gave you, in a former letter, some description of the Masked 
Balls at tie Grand Opera in Paris. Every man is naturally de- 
sirous of penetrating the real character of the people among 
Whom he may happen to be residing. One, among the many 
Ways of acquiring this knowledge, and certainly not the least 
agreeable, is to observe them in their pleasures and amusements. 
It is owing to this reason, that I have already written to you, and 
shall probably continue to write, so largely of balls and parties, 
of public spectacles, and exhibitions of various sorts, and especial- 
ly of such as tend to show the social condition of the population, 
and develope the peculiarities of their domestic relations. It is 
with this view, in conjunction with others, that every stranger is 
induced to visit such a place as the Prado. 

This is a ball-room, situated on one of the islands in the Seine, 
and nearly opposite to the Palace of Justice. This ball rejoices 
in the reputation of collecting, beyond a question, the lowest class 
of the community, who have means sufficient to obtain an en- 
trance. Dancing is absolutely necessary to the very existence of 
the French, and all indulge in it — the young and old — the rich 
and poor. The numerous students, who reside in this quarter, 
and are among the most dissolute and reckless inhabitants of the 
city, compose the dancers, with their mistresses and the common 
courtezans of the town. No attention is paid to dress whatever. 
The men make their appearance in soiled frocks, with heavy, 
muddy boots, and the women in bonnets and shawls, in cottons, 

62 



THE PRADO.— NEW-YEAR'S DAY. 



or silks, in petticoats, or breeches. Gloves are rarely seen. The 
dances are the same, as at other and more respectable places, 
except that the quadrille, which is the common dance, is modified 
to suit the loose habits of these people. When executed with 
this freedom, it receives the appellation of cancan. It consists in 
the cavalier's seizing the dame with both arms around the waist, 
she often assisting in the embrace ; and so they "forward and 
back, cross over and balance." The other figures, are but modi- 
fications of this hugging, with the exception of a kind of balance, 
in which the opposite couples approach each other, and then 
rapidly strike out their feet in a sideway direction, accompanied 
with a wriggling motion of the body. The whole figure is totally 
devoid of grace, and its difficulty is its principal recommendation. 
The American waltzer would be amazed to see the waltzing here. 
Her sensibility would be shocked to witness the gentlemen clasp- 
ing with both hands the waist of the lady, and she would be as- 
tonished at the rapidity with which they turn, and the length of 
time during which they whirl without fatigue. Considering the 
class of the community, who frequent these places, their limited 
means, and the low price for entrance, (twenty-five cents at the 
Prado, and at many other places ten cents — females admitted 
gratuitously) one would naturally expect to see a small hall, dim- 
ly lighted, and of mean appearance. On the contrary, when re- 
covered from the blaze of light, that blinds him on his entrance, 
the visitor finds himself in a spacious saloon of one hundred and 
fifty feet in length, ornamented with numerous mirrors and chan- 
deliers, dependent from its lofty ceiling. A fine orchestra, whose 
number varies according to the companies expected to be present, 
being larger on fete and Sunday nights than others, performs the 
choicest music of the day. The balls are of various kinds, name- 
ly, the simple ball, commencing at eight, ending at eleven o'clock 
— the night ball, beginning at eleven o'clock, p. m. and closing at 
half-past six a. m. — the masked and the costume fancy balls, 
both of which are night balls also. 

Many of the customs of New Year's Day, (to which I seize 
this occasion to recur,) do not differ from those which are preva- 



64 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

lent in and about New York. As there, so it is here, a time for 
a general visiting ; and the occasion is embraced either to sustain, 
or drop, a previous acquaintance. Friends make presents to each 
other of bon-bons, or more substantial articles. One, too, is pest- 
ered with a crowd of beggars, whose benevolent wishes for your 
prosperity, are expected to be repaid by silver. Before rising in 
the morning, I was thus saluted by the woman having the super- 
intendence of my room. She had taken the precaution beside 
to bring her little offspring in her arms, to stammer out a wish 
for my future welfare. Whatever influence these aspirations 
might possess to promote my happiness hereafter, it is certain, 
that they very much disturbed my present enjoyment. The door- 
keeper was particularly attentive throughout the day. At the 
cafe, the waiters were uncommonly assiduous in their attendance, 
and kindly placed before me with my coffee a cornucopia, filled 
with bon-bons, which they expected me to pay for, without tak- 
ing, at double its value. The military officers of the National 
Guard, past and present, were honored by, from two to twelve 
drummers, who beat the tatoo beneath their windows to the an- 
noyance of the whole neighborhood. But the King himself was 
glorified in a special manner, at twelve o'clock, by all the drum- 
mers in Paris, to the number of fifteen hundred ! who were col- 
lected in terrible array, in front of the palace in the garden of 
the Tuilleries. The thunder of this tremendous rub-a-dub, can 
be compared to nothing but Milton's "insufferable noise," when 

" confounded chaos roar'd, 



And felt tenfold confusion." 

The usual beat to quarters every night at seven o'clock, in the 
Place Vendome, executed by fifty -two drummers, assisted by six 
trumpeters, produces a din sufficiently deafening. It is, however, 
nothing but a whisper in comparison. Surely his majesty, how- 
ever ardent may be his love of music and glory, must have taken 
care to give this martial host their expected gratuity and dismis- 
sion without the least possible delay. 

On Sundays and fete days, the Champs Elysees presents many 





COLONNE DE LA PLACE VENDOME 



LEARNED DOGS.— PUNCH AND JUDY. 65 

objects of interest and amusement. Independently of its agree- 
able walks, the gorgeous Place Concorde, glittering with gilded 
gas-posts and fountains — the magnificent Obelisk of Luxor, 
brought at an immense expense from Egypt, and the precursor 
of the celebrated Cleopatra's Needle ; numberless vehicles of the 
wealthy, flashing with gold and silver, and bearing, beside the 
driver, one or two pampered lackeys, who, from their stand upon 
the rack behind, look down with scorn and pity upon all they 
pass ; the numerous booths of mountebanks with the never-to-be- 
forgotten Punch and Judy, and other similar shows ; and, in ad- 
dition to the whole, the crowds of people of all classes and ages, 
who throng the trottoirs, present altogether a rare combination 
of novelty, fun, and splendor, and make the Champs Elysees the 
scene of never-failing attraction. Here are little carriages, to 
which a team of goats is harnessed, ^vhose white coats and grace- 
ful appearance, recall the fairy tales, which excited us so much 
in infancy ; and which now cling to our memories with such te- 
nacity, as to cause a doubt, whether they are in reality the recol- 
lections of past events, or illusive creations of the imagination. 
But these pretty animals have another office to perform, beside 
that of bringing to our mind our youthful days. The young 
children of the wealthy delight to ride in these vehicles, and their 
good behavior for the preceding week is thus rewarded. Here 
are men with learned dogs, who, beside *many similar tricks, will 
tell you the time, according to the watch, by selecting from num- 
bers printed upon cards, and placed before them. This is done 
in the open air, and all have a right to observe the performance ; 
the owner being compensated by the generosity of the spectators, 
who throw him a few sous according to their will. I have always 
felt a strong desire to see the far-famed Punch and Judy, and 
now for the first time have had my curiosity gratified. Notwith- 
standing its simplicity and folly, I regarded it for a time with real 
pleasure. There is something about it, which is exceedingly at- 
tractive. I am acquainted with men of science, who would hardly 
be suspected of a capacity to be thus amused, who have frequent- 
ly seen it, and always with great satisfaction, though possibly it 
3* 



66 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

might be for the five hundreth time. I am sure, that none of 
them could have laughed more heartily than I did. In a walk 
of half a mile, I remarked six or eight of these booths, and 
every one surrounded by a merry crowd. Jugglers, somerset 
tumblers, " sights," as they are called in New-England, and other 
similar attractions, may be witnessed for a sous, and everywhere 
abound. 



XII. 

Further Account of the Hotel Dieu — Roux — Chomel — Magendie — 
Ecole Pratique D'Anatomie — Museum of Dupuytren — Shocking 
Effects of Secret Vice. 

The account of the hospital called Hotel-Dieu, which was the 
subject of previous letters, will now, after a considerable interval, 
be resumed. Among the most celebrated of its surgeons, and 
indeed of the practitioners of Paris, is a little, fat, good-natured 
looking man, whose gray hairs cover a forehead always wrinkled, 
either with laughter or anger. For Mons. Roux is one of those 
coleric individuals, who are frequently in a passion, but soon out 
of it ; while his jovial character renders him a favorite professor 
among the students. His visits and operations are consequently 
thronged with crowds, but there is a sad falling off at his lec- 
tures. Their prolixity is extremely tedious, and his digressions 
insupportable. After a discourse of an hour and a half to a 
larger auditory than usual, attracted by an operation of magni- 
tude, that was expected to follow, he is accustomed to remark, 
" Gentlemen, I have no time to say more, and will defer the re- 
mainder to another day. So much of the morning has been oc- 
cupied, that the operation must necessarily be postponed." It 
is not strange, if persons who have patiently sat, till eleven 
o'clock, without their breakfast, should not always be contented 
with so impotent a conclusion to his lectures. As an operator, 
however, there are few better, and, in surgical diseases of the 
eye, he is particularly distinguished. 

Messrs. Chomel and Magendie are the most eminent among 
the physicians. The clinique of the former is larger, perhaps, 
than that of any other physician in Paris. In the diagnosis 
of the diseases of the lungs he stands at the head of the pro- 

67 



68 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

fession. His lectures are perspicuous, and the reports of them, 
together with the numerous note-books to be seen at their deliv- 
ery, attest their worth. Mons. Magendie, a translation of whose 
work on Physiology has been published in the United States, 
enjoys a greater reputation abroad than at home. 

In following the unfortunate patients of the numerous hospi- 
tals, who chance to die, to their final resting-place — which here 
is not the tomb — we come to the Ecole Pratique (TAnatomie. 
This is one of the largest public dissecting rooms of this city. 
And it is the most commodious to the student, being situated in 
the centre of the Latin quarter, and near the School of Medi- 
cine. At this, and the amphitheatre of Clamart, four thousand 
subjects are annually used for anatomical purposes. They are 
daily transported from all the hospitals, and deposited in a small 
building appropriated to this object. There are to be seen at 
this receptacle from twenty to forty at a time, of all colors, ages 
and conditions — a shocking spectacle to an unprofessional ob- 
server. Every day, at twelve o'clock, there is a distribution of 
them among all the classes of students. Every instructor has a 
small building for his own use, in which are ten or fifteen tables 
of cast iron. The human body may thus be viewed in every 
stage of dissection, and, I may add, decomposition. By peram- 
bulating the several buildings, the various parts of the human 
organism, the nerves, muscles and blood-vessels may be easily 
examined, and studied. Here, the assiduous student may be 
seen, with his soiled blouse, and his head bedecked with a fan- 
tastic cap. In one hand he holds a scalpel, in the other a trea- 
tise on anatomy. He carries in his mouth a cigar, whose intoxi- 
cating fumes, so hurtful on most occasions, render him insensible 
to the smell of twenty bodies, decomposing, putrifying around 
him. So accustomed is he to this horrid scent, that he perceives 
not, that his garments are impregnated with it to such a degree, 
that persons in the streets turn round to see, if they have not 
passed a butcher or a stabler. Here, too, is the learned pro- 
fessor, who thus prepares himself for a difficult operation by re- 
freshing his anatomy ; and thus rehearses his part in the tragedy 
to be acted on the morrow. The blood and pieces of flesh upon 



MUSEUM OF DUPUYTREN. 69 

the floor, he regards, as the sculptor does the fragments of mar- 
ble lying round the unfinished statue. The skeleton, dangling in 
the centre of the room, and the preparations hanging about the 
walls, possess, in his view, beauties which the world can never 
see, and he receives more pleasure in their contemplation, than in 
the masterpieces of Raphael or Titian. But the man, who feeds 
icith the flesh of human beings the dogs, who are kept to take their 
places on the table in their proper turn, is entirely hardened. 
There lie these dogs, with their feet bound together, exposed in 
a latticed cage to the inclemencies of the weather, without even 
straw to keep them warm, and fed on the bodies of men. Is it 
strange, that they should whine and bark, and groan, day after 
day, and snap at their unnatural feeders ? 

The cost of dissecting is about six dollars the season, accord- 
ing to the abundance of subjects, and the number of students 
engaged. This insures a subject nearly all the time during the 
winter. Instruction is given by a professor appointed by the 
government, &c. The attempts at cleanliness are made by ser- 
vants attached to the institution, and paid also by government. 
In the summer season, dissecting is forbidden; but operative 
anatomy may be studied to great advantage. 

Near this institution is the celebrated Museum of Dupuytren, 
so called in honor of the distinguished surgeon, who left seventy 
thousand dollars for the establishment of a professorship of path- 
ological anatomy. It is only since his death, that the medical 
school of Paris could boast of a cabinet of this sort. The col- 
lection is, therefore, not very large. It, however, contains many 
objects of interest, which are arranged along the walls in glass 
cases. It embraces all the varieties of disease, but is particu- 
larly rich in those of osseous structure, and wax casts, and rep- 
resentations of syphilitic diseases. This is open to the public 
every Thursday. The visitor on that day is often astonished at 
the number of soldiers, who frequent this museum. I found, on 
inquiry, that, by order of government, the officers of regiments 
publicly recommend those under their command to visit the col- 
lection, in the hope that the contemplation of the numberless ills 
which this disorder entails upon mankind, so varied in their form, 



7 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

and so horrid in their manifestations, might be a salutary lesson, 
and make them cautions of indulging in the vice, which is their 
prolific cause. It is, indeed, a sight which might well startle a 
man of the firmest nerve. For myself, accustomed to see suffer- 
ing and death, and never affected at any period of my life with 
unpleasant sensations, while witnessing, or making operations on 
the living or the dead, and having had likewise many cases of 
this disease, in conjunction with others, in my own practice during 
some years back, let me acknowledge, that the contemplation of 
these horrors, arranged together, and displaying such a loathsome 
catalogue of deformities and suffering, for the first time sickened 
and unmanned me. My brain reeled, a cold chill crept over my 
body, my limbs lost their power, and I sank helpless on a bench 
Fathers, parents ! why do you so assiduously keep from your 
children the knowledge of this disease, and also of its cause? 
Why shun all conversation on the subject ? Why not discover 
to them this vice in all its deformity, and all its lasting and disas- 
trous consequences ? In all hospitals ample specimens of this dis- 
ease may always be seen, with manifestations so horrible as to chill 
the heart, and make the blood of the young run cold. In the 
library of almost every physician colored plates may be examin- 
ed, which will give a lesson that never can fade from the memory ; 
and which, in moments of temptation, will interpose a barrier be- 
tween them and crime, too powerful for pleasure to surmount. 
And, while attending to the subject, let not the parent forget to 
visit the hospitals of the insane, and point out to them the mala- 
dies — the more common American diseases — caused by masturb- 
ation. Let him there show to his sons, ay, even to his daughters, 
the disgusting appearances and the wreck of reason, that have 
followed this description of sensualism. Let neither modesty, 
nor its counterfeit, prudery, nor any affectation stand in the way 
of an honest performance of this duty ; but faithfully let him ex- 
plain the cause and consequence, and leave the tender hearts and 
good common sense of his children to digest the solemn lesson, 
and reap its fruits. With this advice, coming strangely, you may 
think, from the metropolis of France? I close this letter. 



XIII. 

French Politeness — Etiqutte — Necessary expenses of Living — 
Cost of various articles of Dress. 

The French have long enjoyed the reputation of being the 
politest people in the world. The consequence has been, that 
those, who have presumed to teach the art of politeness, have 
deemed it prudent frequently to call themselves French, whether 
they were so in reality or not. Most of the works on etiquette 
in our country are translations from that language. Everything, 
in short, which is said or done by them, from the cook to the 
prince, is thought to be spoken, or performed, in the purest taste 
and most polished manner. And shall I dare to say, in the face 
of facts like these, that a most egregious blunder has been com- 
mitted ? Would anybody believe me, if I should assert, that 
they are so deficient in this accomplishment, that it is pure satire 
to give them the title of polite ? Politeness is surely not a mere 
matter of words, but a product of the heart. A visible symbol 
of an emotion of the soul, it can no more be expressed by a for- 
mula of language, than devotion can be by a posture of the body. 
It cannot therefore be acquired by a study of forms alone ; and 
those who put themselves under the tuition of persons, who pro- 
fess to teach it in that manner, will at least succeed in learning, 
that their instructors are ignorant of its first principles. If polite- 
ness consists in taking off the hat gracefully, and bowing pro- 
foundly ; in telling an ugly woman that she is charming — a per- 
fect angel — then it must be allowed, the French surpass every 
other nation in this accomplishment. Indeed a French hat, and 
an American or English one, are made for very different purposes. 
The latter is designed to be put upon the head, whereas, the 

71 



72 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

former is intended only to be taken off. This is a land of 
perfect equality, as far as the bow goes. The lady and grisette, 
the friend and stranger, are greeted with the same salutations. 
The hat is lifted to a certain height, the head kept uncovered a 
particular length of time, and the body bent to the attitude pre- 
scribed, while he declares, on his parole d'honneur, that she is 
charmante, though she may be homelier than the ugliest balayeuse 
in the city. If, however, these do not compose the standard of 
politeness, but if, on the contrary, the speaking of the honest 
truth in kindness, and a willingness to sustain some inconvenience 
for the accommodation of another, be its genuine characteristics, 
then the most unsophisticated backwoodsman of the Green 
Mountains far surpasses the refined of the most polished nation 
of the globe. 

In matters of etiquette, however, the case, it may be thought, 
must certainly be otherwise. Well, let us see. It is necessary, 
to be sure, that one should wear a straight-bodied dress coat and 
white kid gloves at a party or a ball. The former, as it was in- 
tended to do, is commonly sufficient to absorb all the intellect of 
the wearer, and the latter all the yellow dirt, while he is perpetu- 
ally thrusting his digits into his huge snuff-box. At the theatre, 
where good manners are affected, the lovely Desdemona, or the 
sweet Andromache, by way of preparation for her coming part, 
does not hesitate to turn round and spit upon the stage. At the 
close of a pathetic scene, the sudden application of a thousand 
snuffy white pocket handkerchiefs to a thousand sonorous noses 
cannot fail to heighten the tragical effect. One at first imagines, 
that he hears the trumpet sounding a charge for a troop of horse, 
and it takes some time to be so "up to snuff," as to understand 
the cause. In the street, one gives you a sudden push, at the 
same time taking off his hat, and crying pardon ! while you un- 
expectedly find yourself up to your ancles in the mud and water 
of the gutter. Umbrellas have the same gravitation toward the 
eyes of passengers in this country, as in our own. 

Sometimes this want of politeness is carried to an extent, that 
borders on brutality. Most of the physicians of Paris have risen 
by their talents from obscurity and the lowest classes in the com- 



EXPENSES OF LIVING. ' 73 

munity. Among them many are therefore found, as might be 
expected, whose manners are coarse, and whose movements are 
ungainly. Mons. Roux is, however, pointed out as possessing an 
affable deportment, and, in a word, as being a gentleman. This 
man, a baron of France, a few days ago, operated on a poor 
fellow for some malady. When the operation was completed, 
the unfortunate patient requested that some blood, which re- 
mained upon his body, might be removed. " Pooh !" says Roux, 
and spitting upon the man's person, wiped them both off with a 
piece of dirty cloth. Such an action was too much even for the 
broken-down spirit of this enfeebled sufferer. Though prostrated 
by the union of poverty and sickness, though a menial all his life, 
this indignity and profanation of his person, notwithstanding it 
was committed by the foremost surgeon of the city of Paris, 
touched him to the quick. His languid eye flashed with anger, 
and his cheek, pale with the loss of blood, on a sudden glowed 
with the bright hue of passion. And he did not feel alone. The 
outrage was observed by many who stood around, and the wan- 
ton violation of the feelings of a fellow-man, sunk deep into their 
hearts. 

There is only one polite person, accurately speaking, in Paris. 
It is he, who is selling you some article. In order to extract a 
sous from you, he will bow and cringe, till you have given him 
the coveted trifle in pity for his meanness. 

How money does evaporate in Paris ! In America, one thus 
soliloquizes : " I will go to Paris. Deducting travelling expenses, 
I may see the world, and luxuriate for the same money, and pro- 
bably less, than would be necessary for me to vegetate upon at 
home." He arrives, and is not long in discovering the profundity 
of his financial calculations. He pursues his inquiries under pecu- 
liar advantages for information. He dives, of course, to the very 
bottom of the subject, and the only unpleasant circumstance is, 
that he has got to the bottom of his purse at the very same time. 

The shorter the period during which a person may remain here, 

the greater will be his expenses comparatively. To be sure, there 

are those, who live in this metropolis, on nothing almost. This is 

accomplished by remaining shut up, as it were imprisoned in 

5 



74 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

their rooms. They do not visit public buildings, because there is 
a gratuity to be given the guide. They go not to the Opera 
House, or Theatre, for they make calls too on the pocket. Such 
persons, in short, see very little, if any more of Paris, than if they 
had never crossed the water. Whence then come the advanta- 
ges, or even the pleasures of travel ? The matter of mere living 
here in a barely decent manner is expensive. A room can, in- 
deed, be hired for three or four dollars per month, but it will be 
in the sixth or seventh story of the dirtiest house in the filthiest 
quarter of the city — a miniature Augean stable. His bed-linen 
would be changed once in two or three months. His chamber 
swept once in four weeks. His neighbors, the balayeuses and 
chifoniers. He can put something into his stomach, called bread, 
with butter of a quality inferior to stearine candles, and a bowl 
of chicory boiled in water, and call it breakfast. Ragouts of 
cat's flesh, and beef-steaks of horse, cannot be extravagant. But 
if one really wishes to see Paris, and at the same time live re* 
spectably, he must expect, for he will be obliged, to pay for it. 
Comfortably, I do not say, for the thing and the word are alike 
unknown. One will look in vain for the comforts, to which he 
has been accustomed in America. A room, decently furnished, 
and " well up," too, will cost from six to ten dollars a month ; 
not including porter's fee neither, nor a trifle for the domestics, 
&c. &c. which will swell the sum to one or two dollars more. 
This, though not demanded, is not the less expected. His break- 
fast at the cafe, consisting of a cup of coffee, a roll, and piece of 
butter, will cost a franc, (twenty cents,) a day. If he luxuriously 
demands an omelette, — and they are really very nice, — the conse- 
quences to his purse are frightful. A friend told me, that for a 
long time after his arrival the only way he knew it was Sunday, 
was, that he ate an omelette de fins heroes on that day. A dinner 
at a table d'hote costs about three francs. At a restaurant one 
never knows, till a large bill is presented. Taking counsel of his 
feelings, he cannot persuade himself that he has eaten much, but 
the formidable carte, with the prices annexed, reveals the undoubt- 
ed fact. Frenchmen never have the dyspepsia ; their food is not 
sufficiently solid. Living in this manner, merely respectably, and 



EXPENSES OF DRESS, &c. 75 

allowing nothing for what is necessarily spent in sight-seeing and 
amusements, such as the operas, theatres, concerts, public balls, 
or for books, accompanied with every effort at economy, some six 
hundred dollars a year will be unavoidably expended. 

Clothing, though not dear, costs as much as in many parts of 
the United States. A comfortable black dress coat costs twenty 
dollars ; pantaloons, seven to eight dollars ; vests, from three to 
eight dollars ; according to the material and labor bestowed upon 
it. Gentlemen's white gloves are sixty cents the pair ; colored 
sixty-five cents, and the number which a gentleman is obliged to 
wear, makes it a serious item indeed. I know an American resi- 
dent, an economical man withal, but from necessity, frequenting a 
great deal of company, whose gloves alone cost him one hundred 
and twenty-five dollars a year. Gloves, hack hire, and the per- 
quisite of the concierge, when one is out after twelve o'clock at 
night, make the indispensable expenses, attendant on every party, 
from two to three dollars. Books, mementoes for friends, will 
inflame the aggregate to any desired extent. In addition to this, 
if a yoimg fellow is inflated with the very common, but ridiculous 
vanity, of procuring his coats and hats, and boots, of a man who 
has arisen to pre-eminence in the manufacture of them, he must, 
of course, pay tribute to that reputation. If he can derive a 
pleasure from the silly boast, that a particular article in his 
possession was purchased in the Palais Royal, he must con- 
tribute his proportion of the enormous shop -rent ; and ten dollars 
are thus suddenly augmented to thirteen, in the easiest way 
imaginable. 

This particularity may be out of place in a communication of 
this sort ; but knowing the erroneous views entertained by the 
American public on the cheapness of Paris life, and the difficulty 
of obtaining accurate data upon this point, I have adopted the 
most thorough and expeditious mode of giving that information, 
which, previous to coming hither, I sought for in vain myself. 
Figures never deceive. 

If one is desirous of going into society as much as possible, let 
him remember, that the banker Green invites those, who have 



76 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

money in his hands, to dinner or to balls, a certain number of 
times in exact proportion to the amount of the deposite ; while 
Hottingeur & Co. content themselves with being polite — in their 
counting-room. 

This letter is decidedly French. At the beginning of it, po- 
liteness is the only thing that you observe ; but after all, there is 
nothing at the bottom but a calculation about dollars and cents. 



XIV. 

Medical Officers in French Hospitals — In American Hospitals — 
Reason of the Difference in their Characters — System of Con- 
cours — Sketch of Yelpeau's Life and Person. 

On a very cursory examination of the Parisian hospitals, it is 
immediately apparent, that the medical officers attached to them, 
are, almost without exception, men of eminence in their profes- 
sion. The reason of this striking fact, and also of another still 
more interesting to the United States, namely, that surgeons and 
physicians of the latter country have not, in proportion to the 
magnitude of their labors and responsibility, a similar standing 
in the fields of science, becomes a question for grave investiga- 
tion. If the scientific character of the medical corps of the 
numerous governmental and charitable hospitals in the Union be 
carefully considered, we shall discover many a surgeon possess- 
ing a trembling hand, or an uncertain eye, which renders him 
unfit to operate successfully ; and some unfortunately with such 
a density of intellect, as to make his judgment worse than use- 
less, because it is employed at the expense of his patients. Phy- 
sicians, too, will be detected, whose diagnosis, prognosis, and 
treatment of diseases, are the laughing-stock of all who know 
them. Such are the facts. The cause of this great contrast is 
not a matter of difficult solution. 

A large proportion of the hospital medical officers of the 
United States are indebted for their situations to rich relations, 
or powerful friends, and not to their genius. Some of them have 
failed to obtain practice from their ignorance, or rough and brutal 
manners ; while others possess qualifications not usually enume- 
rated in a medical diploma. I wish that I was not obliged to 
say, that their professional brethren sometimes lend their chari- 
5* 17 



78 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

table, but questionable aid to their advancement, from an esprit de 
corps, and because they are reluctant to see them dragging on a 
life of poverty, or descending to charlatanry for a livelihood. 
Thus the man, whom nobody will employ of his own accord, is 
pronounced to be " plenty good enough " for the inhabitants of 
a hospital, whose poverty is the crime for which they have been 
sentenced to be thus treated within its walls. 

A far better system prevails in France, where situations of this 
description are open to the struggles of all. The Concours, 
derived from the verb concourir, signifying to run together, to 
compete, makes talent, not influence, the necessary requisite for 
promotion. Every medical office in France, whether military or 
civil, is thus obtainable by merit. This system extends from the 
dressers and students in pharmacy up to the professors and high- 
est offices ; the qualifications of course increasing with the im- 
portance of the place contested. The biography of the cele- 
brated Velpeau, surgeon-in- chief to the hospital La Charite, is 
an instance, among many others, of its beneficial effects. 

This man, whose name has been wafted by fame into ever- 
quarter of the world, was born fifty years ago, about twenty-five 
miles from the town of Tours, in France. His honest, unambitious 
parents, destined their son to follow the trade of a blacksmith, 
the occupation of his father. By some accident his father, 
though illiterate, possessed all the books of the village, which 
happened to be, a Treatise of Hippocrates, The Country Mason, and 
The Poor Folk's Doctor. Having learnt these works by heart, 
Velpeau — the son— was frequently called upon to treat the sick in 
the neighborhood ; some trifling success having given him a re- 
putation. Having prescribed to a patient one day, accidentally 
however, a large dose of a very powerful medicine, the effects 
became alarming, and a scientific physician was immediately 
called. Terrified at the result of his practice, our young Escula- 
pius was shaking in a corner with fear. "What has the patient 
taken ?-" shouts the Doctor. Stammering and hesitating, Velpeau 
explains his disease, the remedy given, and the effect. Some 
trifling medicine relieves the dangerous symptoms, and the phy- 
sician turns from the patient to the youthful leech. He is as- 



SKETCH OF M. VELPEAU. 79 

tonished to see so much wisdom in such dirty clothes. The pea- 
santry of France rarely show a knowledge of anything beyond 
their sphere, and such erudition pleased and astonished him. In 
this way learning the history of Velpeau, he became interested 
in him, and encouraged him to a regular course of study. His 
highest ambition being to attain the distinction, in his view, of 
Officier de Sante, a species of medical police found throughout 
France. He soon left for Tours. In so limited a sketch as this 
must be, I cannot follow him through the constant toil in the pro- 
vincial hospitals, supported by a scanty supply of coarse bread 
and cheese sent him by his mother, and encouraged to persevere 
by the praises of his instructors. Time, however, at length brought 
him to Paris ; and in a public Concour he gained the situation of 
interne, or house-physician, of the hospital St. Louis. Here he 
was at least exempted from the necessity of sleeping in a garret, 
and the poor room allotted to the interne was luxurious in com- 
parison to those to which he had been accustomed. He obtained 
a small sum of money by giving lectures to younger students. 
In 1823 he took his degree. In 1828 he was chosen Surgeon of 
the Bureau Central, without a dissenting vote, and immediately 
appointed Surgeon-in-chief ad interim to the hospital St. Antoine. 
It was while here, that he began to publish his opinions, 
which have ever since been so eagerly sought for, and profoundly 
respected by the medical public. From this he was soon trans- 
ferred to the hospital La Pitie, where Jie recommenced his 
lectures. His last promotion brought him to La Charite. Here 
many would have been contented to remain, but his ambition 
was not satisfied with a second place. A professorship merely 
intervened between him and the consummation of all his hopes 
and labors. The acquisition of this would elevate him to the top 
of the ladder, the highest rank of medical honor. He was un- 
successful in his concour for the Chair of External Pathology, 
and also for the professorship of Physiology. Still undaunted, 
in 1830, he contested again the Obstetrical chair. This also he 
lost. His last effort was for the Chair of Clinical Surgery against 
the celebrated Lisfranc, Panson, the elder — and Blandin. In this 
attempt with such distinguished rivals, he bore away the palm 



80 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

The death of Roux, now quite advanced, will undoubtedly be the 
signal of his removal to the Hotel-Dieu, and then the blacksmith's 
son will stand on the loftiest pinnacle of his profession. 

Velpeau is principally known in America by his Midwifery, 
which has been translated by Dr. Meigs of Philadelphia. His 
great work on Surgery, published here in four volumes, with an 
atlas of plates, has been very recently translated, as I observe by 
a New York paper, by Dr. Townsend, with an appendix, con- 
taining the valuable opinions and experience of Dr. Mott. The 
chef-d'oeuvre of the first European surgeon, with notes by the 
highest surgical authority in America, cannot fail to find numer- 
ous readers, and no less numerous admirers. 

It would be foolish to attempt the enumeration of works, of 
which he is the acknowledged author. They are more volumi- 
nous than those of any other writer in the profession, and amount 
to some thirty thousand pages. The difficulty is to comprehend, 
how he could possibly find time to execute such a Herculean 
task. So wonderful a fertility, if not unparalleled in the walks 
of literature and science, can only be the result of great talents, 
perseverance, and ambition. 

Velpeau is rather above the medium height, stoutly built, of 
erect carriage, and stiff demeanor. His head is bald upon the 
summit, but about the ears his once black hair bristles in every 
direction. Not the least vestige of hair is discernible upon his 
oval face, save his eye-lashes and brows, which are long and 
shaggy. From his hatred to whiskers and mustaches, one would 
infer that he is in favor of the Razorian system. But it is his 
sharp grey eyes that give a character to his face. His dress is 
peculiar, inasmuch as he wears on all occasions a white cravat, 
so high and stiff, that his unremitting inflexibility of manner may 
be almost accounted for from the restraint which it occasions 
him. Indeed he scarcely ever turns his head, without carrying 
his whole body with it at the same time. He is not a man of 
social habits, and is accustomed to give to strangers such a cool 
reception, that, like me, they generally keep their introductions 
to him, though coming from men of eminence, snug in their 
trunks. At his cliniques, he is attended by probably the largest 



ADVOCACY OF THE CONCOURS. 81 

number of students of any lecturer in Paris ; and mainly, be- 
cause of the pains he takes to explain everything in the most 
distinct and clear manner. As an operator, his hand is steady, 
his eye good, his judgment excellent, and undismayed by appear- 
ances of danger. He is, however, slow, and his operations some- 
times apparently prolonged without necessity. This hasty 
description of this truly great man will close my letter. A 
subsequent one may, perhaps, embody further particulars in his 
life, which may serve to point out some of the evils attendant on 
the system of Concours. 

Note. — While reading these letters for the press, and again 
reflecting on the excellence of this system of Concours, the feas- 
ibility of its introduction into this city, is, just now, particularly 
evident. The Common Council are re-modelling the medical 
department of the Alms House, and appointing to its care some 
twenty or thirty physicians. Every medical man in the city 
would gladly accept the situations without emolument in any 
way, save that obtained incidentally from the reputation his sub- 
sequent services may acquire. 

Twenty physicians at one appointment ! — and all to personal 
friends or party politicians ! JSTot one to him who,, in a Concour, 
a strife for the mastery, shows himself to be really the first man 
in the particular department of the profession to which he is 
elected ! No ! His appointment is no such honorable testimo- 
nial of skill. It is rather by agreement among the Aldermen, 
that each should have the privilege of appointing his man, mak- 
ing no objection to the appointments of another. Is this an honest 
method of action ? Perhaps so — for no one is so silly as to 
suppose, that a surgeon to this or that institution, must, from his 
situation, have extraordinary abilities. 

What glorious rewards might this city offer to the man of real 
talent ! Open wide the doors of the Poor House, City, Lunatic, 
Lying-in Hospitals, the Physicianships to the City, Tombs, Dis- 
pensaries, Colored Home, Eye and Ear Infirmary, Asylums for 
Blind, and others, to the most talented — proved so in a public 



OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



display, before competent and unbiassed judges — and then, but 
not till then, will the name of a Hospital or Dispensary physician 
be elevated to the rank it should hold. Not till this is done, will 
the houseless and homeless be properly attended when sick, or 
the city justly acquire the name of a city of charity and benevo- 
lence. 



XV. 

The Grisette — Lorette — Fille Publique — Hospital Lourcine-~Mons. 
Hugier — Hospital du Midi — Ricord — Disgusting Effects of Cer- 
tain Diseases — American Students. 

I have promised, I believe, to give you the translation of a 
word, of which all Americans have heard, but few know the 
definition of — I mean, Grisette. To do this adequately, requires 
a long and deliberate view of the entire French people ; more 
particularly, however, of the Parisians, to a portion of whom, 
rather than to the inhabitants of France in general, this appella- 
tion more appropriately applies. The Parisians, as a general 
custom, do not marry young; and when they do assume the 
matrimonial relation, it is seldom from affection, or any feeling 
akin to that emotion expressed by the obsolete word, love — but 
for money. Much has been said about the influence of the 
" almighty dollar," in America; still, it cannot be affirmed, that 
it has yet been often placed in the scale, and made to weigh 
against a wife. Since money is a requisite for matrimony, it is 
evident, that the poor must be unable to marry. But Nature 
forbids a life of celibacy. 

Existence, however, cannot be supported by love alone ; and 
though governments provide hospitals for the sick, they do not 
furnish food and raiment for the well, however young and pretty. 
It is indispensable, then, that girls should work for a subsistence. 
I am almost afraid to mention what they do, lest those whose 
conscientious scruples will not permit them to eat the sugar made 
by slaves, should also be prevented from wearing the lace, flow-* 
ers, worked collars and handkerchiefs, wrought by the grisettes. 
By rising with the dawn, and working till nine or ten o'clock at 
night with constant application, they can earn in general, not 

83 



84 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



more than a franc, or twenty cents, a day. Rarely, when very 
active and particularly skilful, can they swell the sum to thirty 
cents per day. Even in the economical and meagre style in 
which they live, it costs them eighteen cents a day for nourish- 
ment. The two remaining sous will not easily discharge their 
room rent of four dollars, or thereabouts, per month, with not a 
bit of furniture, nothing but the bare walls ; their washing bill ; 
the demand for clothes, and other pressing items of expense. 
More than this, Sunday is a fete day, and they do not wish to 
labor, while others are revelling in enjoyments. But how, then, 
can they live ? Whence will come their Sunday's dinner ? Ah ! 
it is infinitely more agreeable to be promenading in the Luxem- 
bourg gardens ; visiting its galleries of paintings and statuary, or 
the splendid collection in the Louvre ; and, in the evening, seek- 
ing pleasure at the Chaumiere or Prado ball, or at the Vaude- 
ville theatre, with a silk dress, a jaunty hat, and graceful fea- 
ther ; above all, with un joli gargon. But this costs money. 
Who pays it ? It is that joli gargon aforesaid. It is he who pays 
her room rent and toilet, takes her to the balls, treats her to 
I 'eau-de-vie ; or absinthe, escorts her to see the paintings, and 
enables her to indulge in the whole circle of amusements. 

Soon, however, this humble-bee of a joli gargon is tired of his 
pretty flower. From affected jealousy, or some other thin pre- 
tence, he seeks a quarrel with her, and they part, after months 
and perhaps years, of acquaintance. If the quarrel is not very 
bitter, he furnishes her a substitute, but on the neglect of this 
attention, she frequents the balls the same as ever ; yet, as she 
goes alone, her widowhood is readily known, and she says to her 
friends, Maintenant je suis libre, je cherche un amant pour payer 
mon loyer. She takes the first she finds ; for she says, " He is 
not pretty, but — he is amiable ; and — I want some one to pay 
my rent." He is more particular, for the market is fully sup- 
plied. 

A higher class of Parisian citizens is the Lorettes. They de- 
rive this appellation, strange to say, from the fact, that many of 
them live near the beautiful church called Notre Dame de Lo- 
rette. They are another species of the genus before-mentioned, 



HOSPITAL LOURCINE.— M. HUGIER. 85 

differing from them in one important particular, — they do not 
work at all ; their expenses being paid entirely by their lovers. 
Like all the other classes of the great community, they have their 
pride. To the humbler grisette they do not deign to speak a 
word. On bright days, they may be seen, in great numbers, 
promenading in the streets, or if their entreteneur is rich enough, 
riding in the Champs Elysees, preceded by duchesses, and fol- 
lowed by countesses, without a perceptible difference from them 
either in manners or appearance. 

The offspring of these classes is the jille publique, or the com- 
mon woman of the town. The glare of day is unpropitious to 
this unhappy race ; but as the shades of night descend, every 
step discovers some of the sixty thousand women of this descrip- 
tion, that throng the city. The delineation of Solomon was not 
incorrect : " They stand at the corners of the street, and cry after 
the passers by." " The wages of sin " — forty cents — " will not 
deter many." These women, in the same manner as the hacks 
and porters in New- York, are regularly numbered and registered. 
They are compelled to present themselves weekly before certain 
physicians, who are paid by the government to watch for the 
preservation of the public health. When sick, they are sent to 
the hospital Lourcine, specially appropriated to such of them as 
are affected with syphilitic disease. 

This hospital is closed to the public and to students. As a 
matter of particular favor I have been allowed not only to see, 
but to attend it frequently, following the visits of its different 
physicians and surgeons. Mons. Hugier is the chief surgeon, and 
through his influence, I have been enabled to enter and enjoy the 
privilege of seeing his practice, and that of the other physicians 
attached to it. A letter of this kind is not the place for a parti- 
cular description. Were the public mind, as I have intimated in 
a previous letter, divested of much of its affected modesty, and, 
instead of being diverted from the cause and effects of this dis- 
ease, were instructed to give the subject that attention it deserves, 
the three hundred beds of this hospital would be far too nume- 
rous, instead of being, as now, much too circumscribed for the 
wants of the community. 



OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



Friends of humanity ! turn not away your eyes, sickened at the 
sight of lovely women, transformed into hideous creatures ; ot 
smiling children, whose beautiful faces do not reveal the plague- 
spot, which has corrupted every organ ; of infants, who have 
prematurely entered the world, covered with disease, which they 
have innocently contracted, but whom fortunately death will 
shortly remove from suffering. Is it impossible, that a similar 
disease, existing at the era of our blessed Saviour, might have 
prompted the question which was asked him, " Has this man 
sinned, or his parents, that he was born blind ?" Although the 
first mention of this disorder was in the fifteenth century, it is 
by no means improbable, that a similar one then existed. 

Near this is the Hospital du Midi, or the Venereal Hospital for 
males. This contains four hundred and fifty beds, always full, 
and is celebrated for being the dirtiest hospital in Paris. This is 
attributed to the absence of those real " angels of mercy," the 
Sisters of Charity, who so unweariedly in the other hospitals 
watch with the sick and dying. The principal surgeon is the 
eminent Ricord. This gentleman, at the head of this hospital, 
is an American, having been born in Baltimore in 1800. He has 
resided twenty years in this country, and is the author of several 
works of the highest authority in their peculiar branches. In 
1838 he received the order of Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. 
As a writer — in French— he is not distinguished so much for the 
beauty of his expression, as for his clearness, a far more import- 
ant quality in a scientific work. His lectures are frequented by 
a numerous class, notwithstanding the distance of his hospital, 
which is situated at the very extremity of the city. I have often 
attended his visits and lectures, not only for the information to 
be derived from them, but to see a person of talent without os- 
tentation ; one at the same time a man of science and a gentle- 
man, qualifications rarely blended in a Paris physician. On my 
first visit, on learning that I was an American, he received me 
most cordially, and when I expressed the use I had made of his 
work, desired me, if I wished any explanation, to come to his 
house, and he would endeavor to throw light on any part, which 
I did not understand. His politeness is not merely a little elo- 



AMERICAN STUDENTS. 87 



quent breath. His ever smiling, though far from handsome face, 
portrays the goodness of his heart. He has a French exterior on 
an American basis. The latter develops itself in a kind of go-a- 
headitiveness, which never allows him to stand idle a moment. 
He regards his patients, makes his remarks upon the case, pre- 
scribes, and proceeds to the next with wonderful rapidity. Fast 
as he walks, however, the motion of his tongue is far the quick- 
est. I never heard the tongue of a Frenchman run so glibly. 
As a private practitioner, his house is beset with patients. A 
hundred and more are often assembled at a time waiting for their 
turn. These are principally confined to the disease which has 
been the subject of his study for many years. 

To visit these hospitals, so far from the centre of the city, es- 
pecially the Lourcine, one must rise at six o'clock in the morning. 
Think of that, " ye who sleep on beds of ease." The life of an 
American student in this metropolis is truly fatiguing. He rises 
early in the morning for his hospital visit. When that is over, 
he pursues the lions of the town, as the hunter chases the buffalo 
on the western prairie. The resemblance fails, when evening 
comes, for it brings no rest to the student. He must spend his 
nights at theatres or operas, at public or private balls. Some 
space also must be found to empty his overloaded cranium of the 
accumulations of his observation, or the consequences might be 
serious. And this perhaps is the most agreeable occupation 
of all, and somewhat contributes to reconcile him to those enor- 
mous encroachments on his time, that leave him scarcely more 
than two or three hours for necessary sleep, which but imper- 
fectly refreshes the body, jaded by so much exercise, and destin- 
ed to re-commence each day the same fatiguing routine. 

The good New England farmer once every week winds up his 
family clock. My hebdomadal to you has a similar effect on me, 
beside periodically suggesting to my mind the images of you and 
my country. These insist on mingling with my daily thoughts, 
however, on a variety of occasions, without the least invitation or 
prompting, and have taken upon themselves to be especially busy 
and familiar in the night- work of the soul. 



XVI. 

Gobelin Manufactory of Tapestry and Carpets — Insane Hospital 
" La Salpetriere," for Aged and Poor Women. 

A part of yesterday was devoted to seeing some of the inex- 
haustible wonders of this city. In the company of several 
friends, I went to the famous Gobelin Manufactory. This estab- 
lishment is under the direction of the Government, and, among 
all the curiosities which the city affords, may with propriety be 
pronounced unique. Its object is the weaving of carpets and 
tapestry. Although the descriptions which I had read, prepared 
me to witness ^something grand, yet my most extravagant antici- 
pations were far surpassed by the magnificence of the manufac- 
tures. The edifices are situated at the very extremity of the 
city, and the low poor houses of the Rue Mouffetard, the most 
filthy and dangerous of all the streets of Paris, prepare one well 
to enjoy the contrast. The external, and even interior appear- 
ance of the huildings is not at all attractive. They consist of 
about half a dozen small houses, some of which are united by 
bridges. 

On entering the first one, immediately on the left, to which 
we were directed, we noticed on each side of the walls, hung in 
massive gilded frames, what appeared to be paintings of the 
highest order. Thinking it very strange to see articles of this 
kind in a carpet manufactory, I was induced to examine them 
more closely, and discovered to my astonishment, that they were 
specimens of the tapestry here made. . Among them were three 
full-length portraits of Louis Philippe, which would be recognized 
at once without the smallest difficulty. They are copies of por- 
traits executed at different periods of his life, and in various uni- 

88 



MANUFACTORY OF TAPESTRY, &c. 



forms. Another represents the present Queen holding by the 
hand the young Count of Paris. 

Others are copies of paintings of living artists, whose works 
are now displayed in the gallery of the palace of Luxembourg. 
Among them is the celebrated picture of the Destruction of the 
Janizaries by Horace Vernet, which, for beauty of coloring and 
nicety of the shade, challenges comparison with the original of 
this chef-d'oeuvre of the talented artist. Should those young la- 
dies of my own land, who work sentimental slippers for their 
dear friends, and strangely delight to see their affectionate gifts 
trodden under foot, view these specimens of skilful handiwork, I 
fear that they would scarcely be satisfied in future with the 
physiognomies, which make up faces at us on their music stools 
and tabourets. An eye in a Gobelin production is not a black or 
colored blot with a white streak in it, placed somewhere upon 
something of a brick color, meant for a face. Nor is it an accu- 
rate representation merely, but it speaks and flashes, and the be- 
holder feels the fire of the soul that animates the figure. The 
largest of these, the Destruction of the Janizaries, is about twenty 
feet by fifteen, perhaps larger. 

Leaving this room, we proceeded through numerous small 
apartments, in each of which are pieces of tapestry in various 
stages of progression. Beautiful landscapes, bunches of grapes, 
peaches, and all kinds of flowers and fruit, are growing under the 
hand of the workman. One particularly struck my attention. 
It was a porcelain dish of various fruits, placed upon the corner 
of a table of variegated marble. By its side lay a handkerchief 
with a lace border. So finely was the worsted wrought, that the 
figures in the dish, the stains in the marble, and even the delicate 
" work," and each thread of the lace, were distinctly visible. 
The work is called the haute lisse from the warp being vertical. 
The workman stands at the back of the canvas, on which he is 
employed, with the model behind him, to which he occasionally 
refers, in order to adjust the color of his woolen or silken thread 
to that part of the picture he is copying, The object being to 
present as smooth and delicate a surface as possible, all cuttings 
and fastenings are performed on the back, which explains the 
6 



90 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

necessity of his operating on the wrong side. A period from two 
to six years is requisite for the completion of each piece ; and the 
cost often amounts to thirty-five hundred dollars. But even at 
this rate, the workmen are very meagerly paid ; the best of them 
receiving but three hundred and sixty dollars per year. 

This establishment employs about one hundred and thirty ope- 
rators. None of their productions are sold, being distributed 
among the various royal palaces, or given away as presents by 
the king. The wools are dyed in an establishment connected 
with this ; and numerous shades, unknown to commerce, are here 
produced. Jean Gobelin, in 1450, commenced this manufacture, 
which was continued by his descendants, till purchased by Louis 
XIV. in 1662. During his reign, under the administration of 
Colbert, Alexander's battles, the four seasons, the four elements, 
and the history of the principal acts of Lous XIV. from his mar- 
riage to his conquest of Franche Compte, were wrought at the 
Gobelins from the design of Le Brun. Louvois caused tapestries 
to be made during his administrations, after the most beautiful 
originals in the king's cabinet, of Raphael, Julio Romano, and 
other famous painters in the schools of Italy, which were first 
drawn in large dimsenions by the most able French painters, 
such as La Fosse, the two Coypels, Jouvenet, Person, &c. 

To the tapestry manufacture, one of carpets has been attached, 
which was made a royal establishment in 1604, by Marie de Medi- 
cis. Like the former, the carpets are suspended perpendicularly, 
with this difference, the workman is here placed on the right side. 
The carpet is of the kind called Persian, having a long plush, but 
for evenness of surface, fineness and strength, they are said to be 
superior. These magnificent productions, some of which cost 
thirty thousand dollars, are, like the tapestries, never sold. The 
largest ever made was for the Louvre, in seventy-two pieces, and 
was thirteen hundred feet in length. Nothing can exceed their 
gorgeousness of color, and the surpassing beauty of the figures. 

From the Gobelins we went to the hospital devoted to the 
aged and poor women, and the female lunatics of Paris. It is 
one of the most immense of the establishments of the city. The 
distance around its walls exceeds three miles. Within the en- 



INSANE HOSPITAL. 



closure are contained the numerous buildings, which formerly 
were used in the manufacture of saltpetre ; whence it derived its 
name in common use La Salpetriere. The population of the 
place is now about seven thousand ; but it has comprehended in 
by-gone years, nearly ten thousand souls. A large church is 
most worthy of notice among buildings possessing little that is 
remarkable, except their enormous size. It is built in the form 
of a star, four angles of which compose as many chapels, which 
look particularly light and cheerful, when contrasted with the 
sombre appearance of other churches and cathedrals. Of the 
inhabitants at present, fifteen hundred are composed of lunatics, 
idiots and epileptics. These are the materials used by Esquirol, 
in the formation of his distinguished treatise on the insane. With 
such opportunies for observation, it is not astonishing, that so tal- 
ented an individual should have accomplished such valuable re- 
sults. His successors are indebted for distinction more for their 
occupancy of his place, than any contributions they have made 
to science. The multitude of patients allows their classification 
according to their degree of lunacy, thereby contributing exceed- 
ingly to their happiness and probability of cure. This is in a 
great degree impracticable in the United States, from the limited 
number collected in one place ; which is very much to be regret- 
ed, since it is well known, by all who have had the care of this 
unfortunate class of patients, that one noisy and turbulent indi- 
vidual is almost certain to excite all within the sound of his voice. 
The most violent are disposed of, in a place far away from all the 
others. Within the exterior walls, are some twenty small brick 
houses, each having one, perhaps two apartments, containing 
a bed. These houses are about thirty feet from one another. 
Warmth is communicated by means of a stove placed in the 
walls ; the fire being kindled from without. One of these struc- 
tures is appropriated for an intendant, who has the charge of the 
patients placed here. In this manner the noisy and quarrelsome 
are prevented from exerting a detrimental influence on those 
around them. 

This method has been adopted in many of the Insane Hospitals 
of the United States, in a modified degree. One edifice in par- 



92 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



ticular, at the city pauper establishment at Boston, has recently- 
been erected, which however, I fear, will but partially effect its 
object, since it is to contain a half dozen patients, or more, who 
will mutually excite each other ; while from its contiguity to the 
main building, the noise can be easily heard, especially in summer, 
notwithstanding its arched walls are expected to entirely muffle 
the sound. The absence of the iron-grating, universally seen on 
the windows of similar institutions in America, and the unlocked 
doors, permitting the patients to go out at will, into the inclosure, 
whose lofty walls forbid escape, comprise the most striking peculi- 
arities. Each of the separate divisions is supplied with a garden, 
courtyard and work-room, and in fact is a complete establishment 
in itself, totally unconnected with the others. Here are spots 
of land belonging to the patients, which, though neglected at 
this season, bear marks of order and attention. They were col- 
lected at our visit in the work-rooms, some of the old being en 
gaged in spinning flax, knitting, &c. The making of clothing 
seemed the principal employment. In one I noticed a piano. 
The bed-rooms, arranged for twenty beds or more, were perfectly 
neat, the floors nicely waxed, and the linen white and clean. I 
wish some of our Yankee girls would learn to make a bed of the 
French. The sheets are always smooth, and everything disposed 
so comfortably, that one really likes to go to bed, which, with 
your good leave, I will now take the liberty of doing, being very 
much fatigued in recalling some of the incidents of the day's 
perambulations. As the perusal of this letter will no doubt have 
a lulling influence on yourself, another reason is added for my 
retiring, and giving you an opportunity to enjoy your couch, 
which, I am persuaded, is an exception from the foregoing insin- 
uation. 



XVII. 

Superstition — Holy Relics — Michelet — Felicien David — His Con 
cert — Fete of Long Champs — Gen. Tom Pouce — Time and Place 
for making Fashions — Conservatoire Royal de Musique — Its 
Concert — Madame Dorus-Gras. 

Superstition has not yet been banished from the civilized 
world. The high and noble of the land unite with men of intel- 
lect in venerating what more properly belongs to an age of bar- 
barism. They still continue to fall down and worship before 
blocks of wood and stone. This very day I noticed in the jour- 
nals an account of a mandate of the archbishop of Paris, giving 
information, that on Sunday next, there will be exhibited in the 
church of Notre-Dame, some of the most valuable and sainted 
relics that now exist. They are enumerated substantially as fol- 
lows, according to the best of my recollection. The sainted 
crown of thorns, which was placed on the most holy head of our 
divine Saviour. A sainted nail, from the cross of our divine Sa- 
viour. The sainted reed, which was placed in the hands of our 
divine Saviour. Some of the most holy blood of our ever-vene- 
rated Saviour. Some of the holy milk of the divine Virgin Mary. 
These remains are all guarantied to be genuine, and represented 
to have performed at least one miracle by their divine power, 
namely, that of saving themselves from the destruction, which 
overwhelmed most objects of a similar character during the Rev- 
olution. Mons. Michelet, who loses no opportunity to have a hit 
at the absurdities of the Catholic religion, will doubtless expatiate 
upon them. Why are not " The Jesuits," and a still later work 
of his, " The Priest, The Wife, and Th© Family," translated and 
published in the United States ? I imagine them to be exactly 

93 



94 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



the works to sell. They certainly overflow with genius. This, 
the excitement, which they cause among the " believers," suffi- 
ciently attests. 

O, poor Americans, condemned to stay at home, far from the 
land, where everything is collected, which can disgust or please ! 
Wonderful city ! comprising within its bosom whatever can gorge 
the coarsest taste, or delight the most refined. I am not of that- 
class, who believe, with our friend Othello, that 

" He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, 
Let him not know 't, and he's not robb'd at all." 

On the contrary, it is, in my opinion, a real substantial loss not to 
hear, whatever the circumstances may be, the delightful music 
with which this city abounds. In truth, I begin to feel a new 
liking for Paris, since I listened to the exquisitely fine Concert 
given this morning at the Italian Opera House. It was the mu- 
sic of a new composer, Felicien David. These compositions have 
been performed but two or three times this winter. At first, their 
novel character took the public by surprise. None knew how to 
judge them. The rules by which the inspirations of Euterpe are 
ordinarily tested, were here at fault, for these were of a different 
order. While the critics stood aloof in meditation, the multitude 
passed sentence, and applauded. Of course, the leaders quickly 
followed ; and nothing is now heard but loud and universal praise. 
The name of David seems destined to be almost as renowned as 
that of his royal namesake of Israel, who sang and played upon 
the harp so well, and danced, too, with all his might, though 
whether with much grace or not, admits a serious question. 
However that may be, the modern David has inscribed his name 
upon the roll of fame with those of Weber and Beethoven. 

Every ticket was sold for this his last Concert. The first part 
consisted of a symphony, Allegro, Andante, and Scherzo. The 
last movement of the Scherzo was received with loud plaudits. 
The second, La Danse des Astres — a chorus, with solo. Les Hi- 
rondelles was beautifully sung by Mons. Dupont. This sweet 
song, which is marked with the peculiar style of the author, 
though in a less degree than many of the others, is adapted to 



FELICIEN DAVID.— HIS CONCERT. 95 

the capacities of ordinary singers, and will undoubtedly be soon 
within the reach of all on the other side of the water. Le Chi- 
bouk melodie, Le Sommeil de Paris chorus, with solos, finished 
the first part. The second was the performance of Le Desert, 
the chef-d'oeuvre of this great composer. It is the description 
of the movements and actions of a caravan, with some accidents 
that befall it. The entree in the desert, orchestral. " Glorifica- 
tion of Allah," grand choir. This is an exquisite passage. The 
appearance of the caravan is told by a charming march and cho- 
rus ; but in the midst rises a wild storm, the wind whistles, and 
the caravan is all confusion. One can feel the hurricane and the 
clouds of flying sand beating against him, so perfect is the imita- 
tion. By and by the tempest lulls, and shortly after the march 
is re-commenced. 

In the second division are the " Hymn to the Night," and 
the " Evening Revery," two enchanting songs, which I wish that 
you could hear ; I am certain you would then pardon me for 
filling your page with this description. In the third is the 
" Rising of the Sun. 'I This to me is one of the miracles per- 
formed by music. At first, in the breathless stillness, which 
reigned throughout the crowded theatre, a slight sound might 
with difficulty be heard, like the buzzing of a musquito, aroused 
by the faintest ray of light shed upon the world. This increases 
imperceptibly, and the solitary insect is joined by another and 
another. This trill changes to a fifth higher, as the twilight 
deepens, and increases in force, till the sun bursts with a flood of 
light from behind the hills, and any of the audience who may 
have been sleeping, are awakened by shouts of applause. The 
old walls, accustomed as they are to respond to hearty expres- 
sions of delight, shook fearfully with the unwonted fervency of 
the unanimous and thundering demand for a second performance. 

I scarcely remember being more pleased, than at this concert. 
The orchestra of one hundred and fifty performers, seemed im- 
bued with the spirit of the composer, and played with uncommon 
precision and taste. The name of David, without any farther 
works, is immortal. He appears to desire the resuscitation of the 
neglected instruments, the oboe and bassoon, as most of his solos 



96 OLD "WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

are composed for them. These excellent instruments will un- 
doubtedly be more used hereafter on this account. " The Des- 
ert " is in the market to-day, and selling in great numbers, and 
also a portrait of the author on stone. 

In a former letter I informed you how they made the fashions, 
but I have not yet enlightened you as to the time and place of 
their origin. Within the last few days I have been to the great 
manufactory, the Champs Elysees, to witness their formation. 
Good Friday, and the two preceding days, are celebrated in 
Paris as the fete of Long Champs. This fete originated 
in a custom, among the fashionable and wealthy, of going in 
Passion week to attend Mass at the Abbey Long Champs, at- 
tracted thither by the superiority of the music. After the de- 
molition of the Abbey the drive to the woods of Boulogne was 
still kept up. On the last of these days, or Good Friday, the 
Champs Elysees was crowded with vehicles. These were mar- 
shalled into two lines, one going, the other returning, by the 
numerous guards, and not allowed to turn out, or deviate from 
the path, but were compelled to perform the entire circuit, a dis- 
tance of three or four miles. Being unable to proceed faster 
than a walk, this necessarily oocupied considerable time. In the 
centre, circulated more freely the carriages of the nobles, am- 
bassadors, and such others as could obtain permission. A cu- 
riously formed vehicle, of large size, lined with white silk, and 
drawn by four horses of different colors, contained an extremely 
beautiful young lady in pink satin. By her side sat a dashing 
buck. The driver, with two lackeys behind, shone in purple 
coats and scarlet breeches. This remarkable apparition attracted 
vast attention. The tiny carriage and little horses of Gen. Tom 
Thumb, or, as here designated, Gen. Tom Pouce, constituted the 
only representative, that I observed, of the United States. His 
excellency himself, disliking a crowd, unless of persons with each 
a dollar in his hand to neutralize its vulgarity, staid at home. 
Each side of the carriage way was filled with a dense crowd of 
spectators, amounting in the entire length, by estimation, to two 
hundred thousand persons. 

Usually, the fashions of the coming season are invented, or at 



CONSERVATOIRE ROYAL DE MUSIQUE. 97 

least exhibited on this occasion, but this year they were post- 
poned, as eclipses sometimes were by Dean Swift, on account of 
the weather. The spring is excessively chilly and backward, and 
has benumbed the creative power of the Parisian brain, as well 
as the germination of the soil, so that both are equally tardy in 
bringing forth flowers, and giving birth to new modes. At any 
rate, few specimens were observed among the fair occupants of the 
vehicles ; I assure, you, however, that the summer straws are 
really beautiful. 

This letter, notwithstanding all that I can do, — for I have, as 
you see, called on fashion itself, though all in vain— has a violent 
propensity to music, and insists upon indulgence. It is conse- 
quently only a natural fulfilment of its destiny to proceed to give 
you an account of another concert^ which I heard last night s 
This took place at the Conservatoire Royal de Musique. This In- 
stitution was established for the purpose of giving instruction in 
music gratis, and has attached to it about four hundred and fifty 
pupils. They give annually eight concerts. The solos are per- 
formed by the first artists in the city, and the choruses and in- 
strumental parts by the scholars. These concerts enjoy the 
deserved reputation of being the best in the world ; for in no 
place is such attention paid to the rehearsals. As might be ex- 
pected, it is very difficult to obtain admission to them. At the 
commencement of the season, tickets are taken by subscribers for 
the whole eight. So great is the desire to obtain them, that a 
queue is formed as early as four o'clock in the morning awaiting 
the opening of the bureau at eleven. 

I was unable to procure a ticket ; but going thither about an 
hour before the commencement, with forty others, I received one 
entitling me to stand at the door till everybody had passed in, 
and the concert begun, and then to the further privilege of seek- 
ing for a seat, or vacuum rather, which is as rarely found in 
these exhibitions, as in nature herself, who, you very well know, 
abhors it. Of course, the privilege did not avail me much. By the 
side of the stage, however, the boxkeeper for a small gratuity gave 
me a chair in what she justly denominated a dark closet. I there 
found three others, whose faces were the only ones visible to me the 
6* 



98 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

whole evening, and those only by the nickering ray of a candle 
about as bright as an American fire-fly. But I heard the music 
distinctly. What could be desired more ? I did not come to 
see ; and what lover of the muse> who makes her revelations to 
the ear, could have ever thought of using his eyes, when such 
pieces were performed in a style that nobody else could do them, 
as Haydn's Creation, Overture to Oberon by Weber, (encored) 
Symphonie in ut Minor of Beethoven ! The Boston Handel and 
Haydn Society, and Boston Academy of Music have performed 
these pieces, and the little world of the Literary Emporium were 
delighted. Are there not many of those bright-eyed ladies, who 
Were then so enchanted, who would most gladly be thus shut up in 
a dark closet with me ? There is no knowing what they would 
do—in order to hear the sweet voice of the celebrated Madame 
Dorus-Gras warbling the beautiful strains of Haydn's most beau- 
tiful Oratorio. 

Music has carried me through this sheet, which I commit to the 
mercy of the waves, trusting it will have a better fate than the 
three American packet ships, whose loss all deplore, especially 
those who have again to cross the big water, and who found sea- 
sickness quite sufficient, without going to the bottom. I have a 
suspicion that this letter is rather stupid ; if otherwise, it must be 
accounted for by the following, which was once said by some- 
body, and which I leave every one to translate for himself, and 
apply as he can— Les oon mots sont des fruits, qui viennent sans 
etre cultivis. lis surprennent autant ceux, qui les disent, que ceux 
qui les ecoutent 



XVIII. 

Common Schools — Colleges — Liberty — M. Michelet — Prisons — The 
Depot de la Prefecture be Police — The Conciergerie — Marie An- 
toinette. 

A trite old adage says : " Where there is a will, there is a 
way." Like many other intellectual heir-looms, which have 
come down to us from the flood, it has been much oftener on 
our tongues, than in our practice. But if you ever have the mis- 
fortune to be imprisoned in a crowd, I advise you to summon one 
■of these " old saws," to your aid ; for you will find, as you shall 
see I did on a recent occasion, that they are eminently useful in- 
struments to cut a passage through. At such a crisis politeness 
and perseverance are invaluable pioneers ; and, if the patient can 
have the good fortune to summon to his aid the spirit of wisdom, 
wrapped up in a classic cuticle, such as Suaviter in modo, fortiter 
in re, for example, his speedy delivery is certain. The truth of 
this I had abundant experience of in going to the College of 
France to hear a Professor deliver one of his usual lectures, of 
which I will tell you by and by. 

Much as we boast in America of our facilities for general in- 
formation, our system is by no means perfect. A common edu- 
cation can be acquired, it is true, at least in the Northern States ; 
and so far it is well. But how long are the Common Schools, the 
legacy of the Puritans, to last ? Apostates have long ago been 
found to disparage the character of an ancestry, of which they 
are unworthy ; and bigots have now appeared in sheep's clothing 
to disturb, and finally destroy, some of those invaluable institu- 
tions, which — and nothing else — have made our country, what it 
is. The seeds of decay and ruin are being planted in the Com- 
mon School system, and theological sectarists are laying on it the 

99 



100 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

spoiler's hand, and parting its once seamless robe among them. 
Alas, for the time, when the glory of New England and New 
York shall be quenched in total eclipse ! God shield me from 
the sight of our School-grounds turned into cabbage plots ! 0, 
may I never live to see the day, that shall witness the treacher- 
ous conversion of these sacred nurseries of sound letters and 
humane manners into arenas of polemic wrangling, or spots for 
teaching a man-invented catechism, longer or shorter ! 

But though the Common School — the palladium of the Repub- 
lic — is certainly menaced with a fearful trial by those large sec- 
tions of the community, who are accustomed to look upon their 
party advantages, as superior to the common welfare, yet the 
strong common sense of the people at large, it is hoped, will 
warn them of the danger, and cause them to rally for the rescue 
of an institution, peculiarly their own, and eminently democratic. 
This is more than can be affirmed of the colleges, which are too 
exclusive in their action, contribute less to the common stock of 
science, literature and improvement, than is justly expected of 
their imposing organization and munificent endowments ; and 
wear an air of stately exclusion, which contrasts unfavorably with 
the American theory of Government, and with similar institutions 
in this country. In France the portals of the libraries and litera- 
ry institutions are thrown wide open, and the rich and poor stand 
on equal ground. Lectures are daily delivered on every subject, 
with which man is conversant, by professors of the profoundest 
learning. Of every language that is spoken in Europe, or Asia, 
there is a public instuctor. No subject is too abstruse or rare for 
the public to hear ; no experiments too costly for them to see. 
The people pay, and should they not have an equivalent ? Ah ! 
France is indeed a glorious country. No wonder the Frenchman 
feels so keenly the amour de patrie, and, having made a fortune 
in a foreign land, sighs to return to la belle France, and to spend 
it there. No ties are generally strong enough to bind him per- 
manently to any other soil, or prevent him from coming home to 
lay his bones in his native earth. 

When in my last letter I ventured to assign to France, not only 
a happy physical position with regard to variety of climate and 



M. MICHELET. 101 



productions, and an attractive centre for the selectest treasures of 
other countries, but to designate her capital, as a focus where 
science, the arts, all sorts of learning, refinement, taste, luxury, 
and sensuality, if you please, converge, and make her perhaps 
the most brilliant star in the Universe, I anticipated that the want 
of freedom might be objected, as casting a deep shade upon an 
otherwise bright exterior. And what is American liberty ? Does 
it not consist in the absence of all restraint in speech and action, 
except what is necessary for the general welfare ? And is the- 
Frenchman a bondman ? Certainly not. In many respects in- 
deed he is freer than my countrymen. He is not depressed by 
the surveillance of public opinion, which, though often a salutary 
check, is sometimes, it must be confessed, the most vexatious of 
tyrants. Why, what degree of comfortable liberty can a poor 
fellow enjoy, even under his own vine and fig tree, if the busy 
body of a public is taking notes all the while ? If every man is 
a spy, and every old woman an agent of the police, or a bill-stick- 
er to make proclamation of his violation of some of its often ar- 
bitrary and foolish rules, his life becomes a perpetual running of 
the gantlet. Though this odious despotism of the public, which 
spares not even one's own castle, does not possess the power of 
actual imprisonment, it notwithstanding, imposes heavy bail, and 
lays a man under bonds for good behavior, as long as he fives. 
One may wear a hat in Paris of any form, or a cap of Harvard 
College notoriety, if he chooses ; he may put on a coat of any 
cut or color ; a Dickens' bear-skin, even, and no mob will follow 
on his trail, no inquisitive stranger ask him the price of his in- 
teguments. 

I found myself near one of the lecture rooms of the College 
of France fifteen minutes before the usual hour, and resolved to 
hear, and see the " agitator," the Dr. Steiger of France, the 
inflexible persecutor of Jesuitism — Mons. Michelet. But, though 
so early, not only was the hall filled, but the steps also leading to 
it ; and numbers were going away in despair of effecting an en- 
trance. On the strength, however, of the maxim with which this 
letter commences, and with the exercise of a little agility, which it 
inspired, I soon carried the place by escalade, and was finally 



102 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

most comfortably seated directly in front of the speaker. Before 
the lecture began, I had ample time to inspect two large pictures, 
representing passages in the history of the college, and to exam- 
ine the audience, with a view of ascertaining its character. The 
two front rows were occupied by ladies, without whose patronis- 
ing presence few lectures of any sort are ever delivered. My 
scrutiny, however, resulted in nothing satisfactory. The only 
peculiarity noticed was two negroes of the most polished ebony, 
which contrasted agreeably with the less highly colored com- 
plexions around them. 

The stillness of the assembly, and my reflections, were suddenly 
interrupted by a clapping of hands and other demonstrations of 
welcome, and I saw entering at a side door, a gentleman of some 
five feet six or seven inches in height. His form was slightly 
bent, but not with age, for he appeared not to have seen more 
than fifty years at the utmost. His dress, with the exception of 
a white vest, was entirely black. Seating himself behind a table, 
and waiting a sufficient time for the greetings to subside, he com- 
menced his lecture. The face of Mons. Michelet has little that 
is remarkable, as the features are quite regular ; but his dark eyes 
are bright and beautiful. His gray hair, parted nearly in the 
middle, is suffered to grow long, almost encircling his ears. He 
wears neither beard nor mustache, and his somewhat sunken 
cheeks are without any other color, than the general yellow tint 
of his whole face, which indicates an infirm condition of health. 

As a speaker, he is forcible rather than elegant. In the tones 
and modulations of his voice he has a mannerism, reminding one 
sometimes of a Methodist preacher ; at others of a theatrical per- 
former, especially in his cadences, which are drawn out with a 
slow, tragic intonation. Otherwise, his delivery made no preten- 
sion to oratory. Like most of the French professors, he sits, 
while pronouncing his lecture, in consequence of which his ges- 
ticulation is much repressed. It is his clear and logical deduction, 
which renders his discourses so attractive. Add to this an ever- 
pleasing power of analysis, a vein of humor and sarcasm, and 
the excitement which agitates all around, and extends through 
Europe, I may say„ against Jesuitism* and his popularity may be 



THE PRISONS OF PARIS. 103 

accounted for in some degree. His remarks, which are extempo- 
raneous, with the exception of a few notes before him, were fre- 
quently interrupted by applause. Note books and reporters were 
very numerous ; and his distinct, slow utterance made it easy to 
transfer all he said to paper, word for word. 

Michelet, and his colleague Quinet, are causing a great commo- 
tion throughout the kingdom. A short time ago a petition came 
from Marseilles, numerously signed, praying the Chamber of 
Deputies to stop the lectures of the former. His last work, 
Du Prctre, des Femmes, de la Famille, has, in the space of a few 
months, gone through six or seven editions. The priests are 
doing their utmost to allay an excitement, which, they are very 
well aware, can be kept up only at their expense. But I have 
not heard that any of them, as yet, have used any Brownson 
knock down arguments. I trust, before long, to introduce to you 
Mons. Quinet. 

With much difficulty I have succeeded in gaining admittance 
to the prisons of Paris. Of these there are about a dozen, con- 
taining every class and grade of offenders. The government is 
exceedingly slow in granting permissions to visit them, for various 
and obvious reasons ; and it was only after making great exer- 
tions, and explaining that I did not wish to enter them from mere 
curiosity, but from a desire to study their construction and ar- 
rangement, the treatment of the prisoners, their food ana* accom- 
modations, the character and amount of their labor, and other 
particulars, for future use, that the privilege was at last granted 
to me. 

The first that I visited, was one of the oldest in the city, the 
Conciergerie. Its rough and gloomy aspect struck me very for- 
cibly, the more, no doubt, because, since my entrance into 
France, my visits have been principally to see the grand and 
beautiful, with, now and then, a peep into the fantastical or gro- 
tesque. In architecture, noble churches and splendid palaces 
have been the chief objects of my contemplation. The differ- 
ence was startling indeed between their waxed floors, walls glit- 
tering with gold, and glowing with the handiwork of renowned 
artists, and the grim, cold stone, grated windows, and iron doors 



104 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

of these dark habitations of crime. The contrast is, notwith- 
standing, not so great as may be imagined ; for both are asso- 1 
ciated with historic, or redolent with romantic lore ; both have 
been the abodes of kings. In both, subtle statesmen have plot- 
ted ; sweet maidens, and innocent princesses, sighed. What, 
then, is the mighty difference ? Ah ! " Disguise thyself as thou 
wilt, still Slavery ! still thou art a bitter draught ! and, though 
thousands, in all ages, have been made to drink of thee, thou art 
no less bitter on that account." 

I will describe these buildings more or less minutely, commenc- 
ing as nearly as possible, in the order that the prisoners enter 
them. The first, then, is the Depot de la Prefecture de Police. 
This was erected in 1828 at a cost of sixty thousand dollars, and 
is situated near the river Seine, at the head quarters of the Pre- 
fect of the Police. It is capable of containing three hundred 
persons ; but now has generally one hundred and fifty. Though 
comparatively a modern structure, it is not built upon a 
recent model, but resembles the gloomy strongholds of the olden 
time. Its fastenings and windows have not their strong and mas- 
sive look, however ; and this arises from the circumstance, that the 
occupants are such as are yet only accused of crime. Everybody 
arrested in Paris is first brought to this place, where they do not 
remain more than two or three days. The edifice is divided into 
several apartments, appropriated to the various grades of those 
who are confined. Those accused of crime are separated from 
such as are arrested for minor offences. The young are divided 
from the old, males from females, those respectably clad from 
the filthy and drunken, and finally, the sane from the insane. 
The polite director himself accompanied me round the apartments, 
obligingly pointed out their peculiarities ; explained their uses, 
and, what was more than all, answered my numerous inquiries. 
Beside these general divisions, there are subdivisions into private 
and single rooms, and others for a multitude of twenty or thirty. 
The former rooms are plain, every one having a grated window, 
and each containing a bedstead, generally of wood, but some- 
times of iron ; the sacking of the latter so arranged, however, 
that its principal advantage — freedom from vermin — is counter- 



THE CONCIERGE RIE. 105 

acted. On this are placed two or three mattresses, of a mixture 
of wool and hair, with suitable sheets and blankets, which alto- 
gether make up a very comfortable bed ; a chair completes the 
furniture of the dormitory. The arrangements for the toilet are 
poor. A basin of water permits the indulgence of washing ; but 
when a towel is asked for, the response is the same as was made 
to the heroine of Mrs. Clavers, " Haint you got a 'andkercher ?" 
One who has money can command such things as he pleases. 
The large rooms are filled with the commonest people. Extend- 
ing the entire length of one side of the room is a something, 
whose use one cannot at first imagine. It resembles the leaf of 
a table, but is in fact a species of bedstead, constructed without 
sacking. This is let down at night, and covered with mattresses ; 
here, with all their clothes on, the whole company of twenty 
or more, as the case may be, sleep together in the same bed. 
"Truly crime, as well as poverty, makes strange bed-fellows. In 
the day time the mattresses are piled away in a corner, and the 
bedstead is elevated again to make room for promenading. Such 
lodging strikes one as rather too bad at first ; but after taking a 
view of the motley crew, who, like the Chourineur, never took 
their clothes off, perhaps in all their lives, to go to bed, the slight 
deficiency of etiquette almost disappears, and is partially atoned 
for by its manifest convenience. Many of the company, indeed, 
it is quite probable, never enjoyed a better lodging. One of the 
wards is appropriated exclusively to common prostitutes, who 
have been apprehended for making a noise in the streets, intoxi- 
cation, or disease. Another is for the insane, found wandering 
at large. After their examination, which follows the arrest, a 
soon as possible, these are all either discharged, or sent to other 
prisons for their trial. All the Courts are held in the Palais de 
Justice, of which the Conciergerie is a dependence, and with which 
it is united by an internal passage. To this last all prisoners on 
trial are brought for convenience, and, at its close, are liberated, 
or conveyed in the space of two days to the places of their 
sentence. 

The Conciergerie claims a dreadful pre-eminence among most of 
the other prisons in its local history. Within its frowning walls 



106 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

have been enacted many of the bloodiest and most horrible 
tragedies of tyrannical power, and of the no less arbitrary vio- 
lence of infuriated popular vengeance in the numerous revolutions. 
The entrance is by an arch in the Quai de VHorloge to a court, 
and thence through a great gate, guarded by a portcullis. The 
stern, sombre vestibule subdues the mind to a tone suited to the 
gloomy apartments to be afterwards seen. From the vestibule 
one door conducts to the greffe, where is the office of the direct- 
ors ; another to the advocate's room, where the counsel of the 
prisoners are admitted to consultations with them. It is divided 
from the vestibule by a grated partition ; so that it is completely 
under the inspection of a multitude of jailors, who are constantly 
seated there. Another door leads to the parloirs, or speaking 
rooms. There are two for the two sexes, and are alike in their 
construction, which is peculiar. A double grating two feet 
asunder, divides the room into two parts, into one of which the 
prisoner is introduced, and the visitor into the other. None but 
relations, with a few exceptions, are allowed to visit here. From 
this description, it is apparent, that nothing can be communicated 
from the visitor to the prisoner, who, in addition to this effectual 
isolation, is subjected to the incessant vigilance of a jailor. In 
this prison there are few private apartments, properly speaking, 
though every one sleeps alone in a small room, which occasion- 
ally contains two beds. The furniture is similar to that already 
spoken of at the Depot. At seven in the morning a bell sum- 
mons all to rise and sweep out their rooms ; at eight they are 
served with their allowance of soup ; at ten with their meat, and 
at twelve with vegetables. They may eat them when they 
choose, but they have no more till the next morning recom- 
mences the same routine. They all enter into a common court- 
yard together ; in the centre of which, a fountain permits to all, 
who wish, the privilege of washing. In this court-yard, the 
assassin and thief, the footpad and burglar, assemble together, 
In bad weather a large room affords them shelter; when 
cold, the cell of Louvel, the murderer of the Duke de Berri, 
contains a stove, round which they gather. This is the only 
place, which is warmed on the men's side. In the Depot, on 



MARIE ANTOINETTE. 107 

the contrary, each cell is warmed by an iron pipe running through 
it, heated by steam. The cell of Louvel is circular, and in the 
top of its arched ceiling is a hook, from which was suspended the 
iron cage, in which he was confined. The dungeon is wholly 
destitue of light, but what comes from the grated door. 

The side of the females is the same, as that of the men, except 
that the chauffoir is a common apartment ; but, at the same time, 
it is the most remarkable of rooms. That, now used for the 
Sacristie, is particularly worthy of notice ; for it was here that the 
unfortunate Queen Marie Antoinette was incarcerated two months 
and a half ; and left it only for the guillotine. The room is now 
much altered and enlarged by the addition of several smaller ones ; 
but its original dimensions are easily discernible. Allowing for 
the part, occupied by her bed, a space of ten feet by two was 
all that remained for a tenant of palaces, and a daughter of the 
illustrious house of Hapsburgh. Behind, a small room was con- 
stantly occupied by an armed guard, who watched every motion. 
It now contains three excellent pictures, which, from the darkness 
of the room lighted only by a colored glass window, are scarcely 
visible. They commemorate portions of the sad history of her 
checkered life ; her parting from her family before going to pris- 
on ; her prison, as it was, when she was there ; her dress with 
every article truthfully painted ; and her absolution by the priest, 
before she mounted the scaffold. Her sweet face, as there de- 
pictured, with the memory of her excellent character, made even 
the jailor blush for the despicable and unmanly barbarity of his 
country. This room leads to the chapel, where mass is chanted 
every Sabbath to the assembled prisoners. The men are stationed 
below, and the women in a grated gallery above, which screens 
them effectually from observation. 

A large apartment, now unoccupied, is used in times of distur- 
bance, to confine persons under arrest ; and is capable of contain- 
ing two hundred individuals. Still another, much smaller, with- 
out any furniture but a stove, is called the Condemned Cell, in 
which all, on whom judgment of death has been pronounced, 
are confined, till their removal to the Prison des Condamnh. 



108 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



They are sent hither, as soon as sentenced, a strait jacket put 
upon them, a mattress laid for them in a corner, and an armed 
soldier placed on constant guard in the cell. Three days after 
sentence they are executed, unless they consent to make confes- 
sions, in which case forty days are allowed them. 

No work is done in the Conciergerie, and its capacity is two 
hundred and fifty persons, though rarely containing that number. 



XIX. 

Prisons of Paris — St. Lazare — An Actress off the Stage — Filles* 
Publiques — Debtors' Prison. 

In continuing the particular description of the prisons of this 
metropolis, we come to that exclusively devoted to females. St. 
Lazare, situated in the rue du Faubourg St. Denis, was, at the 
close of the sixteenth century, a hospital for the leprous. When 
that loathsome disease was extirpated, it was given to the estab- 
lishment of Saint Vincent de Paul, and to the congregation, which 
he founded in 1625. From being a Convent of the Lazarists, it 
was employed for the confinement of genteel young debauchees 
and licentious poets, till it has now been converted into a place 
for the detention of females committed for trial, or condemned 
to a confinement of less than a year ; or for those, awaiting re- 
moval to the general prison in the centre of the kingdom at Cler- 
mont, whither all are conveyed, who have been sentenced for a 
long term. 

Before proceeding farther, let me remind the reader, that St. 
Lazare is the thrilling scene of many a chapter of Eugene Sue's 
Mysteries of Paris. Here are the walls that encompassed the 
sweet Fleur de Marie, the kind-hearted Rigolette, and the bold, 
fearless Louve. While reading that work, I remember being 
struck with the achievement of Louve in saving the drowning 
Marie by plunging into the rapid Seine. My surprise has ceased. 
This apparently improbable portion of the history is now render- 
ed less remarkable, for I find, that a great many French women 
are expert swimmers. The river in summer is almost concealed 
by immense floating buildings in the form of a hollow square. In 
these buildings are baths ; and in the centre, which is covered so 
7 109 



110 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

as to defy the intrusive eye, is the swimming school. There are 
many of them of both sexes, and both are well filled during the 
warm weather. A few days since, at noon-day, a poor girl, in a 
fit of melancholy at the loss of a lover, threw herself from one of 
the bridges with the design of putting an end to life and sorrow 
together. A cry of horror arose from the numerous by-standers, 
but not a soul moved to her rescue. A splendid carriage sud- 
denly drove up, a young woman in gay attire leaped out, and 
casting aside her rich cashmere and fine bonnet, plunged fearless- 
ly into the swiftly running current, which foamed in wild eddies 
twenty feet below. Bravely she buffeted the waves, though en- 
cumbered with heavy clothes, reached the miserable unfortunate, 
and brought her to the river side, where both were assisted out* 
The girl was saved, and her lover, struck with remorse, returned 
to her. Her daring rescuer, having played her part brilliantly in 
the comedy of the morning, was heartily greeted in the evening 
by the applause of another crowd, assembled to see her enact 
her part in another comedy at one of the Boulevard theatres, of 
which she is a member. Were the women of America thus physi- 
cally educated, the disaster that befell the Swallow, and similar 
ones, would probably not be attended with so painful a sacrifice 
of human life* 

Hoping by this little episode to have caught your attention, 
you may be willing to go with me into the prison, and learn its 
condition, which is the object of mj visit. It is divided into three 
fundamentally distinct parts, each of which is the receptacle of 
different classes of individuals, who are entirely separated from 
one another. The first contains persons committed for trial. The 
second those who are undergoing sentence of imprisonment ; and 
the third is for young children under sixteen years of age. I shall 
say nothing of the first, as it is like others of the kind in similar 
buildings. The second class is principally one peculiar to Paris, 
to understand which requires some preliminary description. The 
filles-publiques of the city are subject to regulations of Govern- 
ment in every respect. To engage in this vocation, it is requisite 
to have the name and residence recorded at the office of the Pre- 
fect of the Police. A license is then granted, as one is in our 



PRISON OF ST. LAZARE. Ill 

country to a retailer of ardent spirits ; -with this exception, that 
on the certificate are inscribed the rules and regulations for tho 
control of their behavior, which are carried into actual execution, 
instead of sleeping on the statute-book. These consist principally 
in limiting the hours and places of their perambulations. They 
are forbidden for example to enter any of the public gardens, the 
Palais Royal, and many other places ; to address in the streets 
any one, who has a child or female in company, or any one what- 
ever before the city is lighted in the evening, or after eleven 
o'clock, &c. &c. This card is frequently required to be shown to 
any of the numerous police, who may happen to imagine, that a 
woman has commenced business without a license. The reverse 
of the card supplies a place for the date of her physician's visit. 
There are more than two hundred of these physicians, called offi- 
ciers de sante, supported by the government, whose whole duty is 
to keep an eye upon the health of this class, ne quid detrimenti 
respublica capiat. To effect this object, every maison des filles is 
licensed, and visited weekly. The loose women, who occupy 
their own apartments, go themselves once a fortnight to the bu- 
reau at the Hotel de Ville for a similar purpose. The rules are 
so rigidly enforced, that if any are detained a day or two beyond 
the time prescribed, a messenger is despatched at once to inquire 
the reason. Change of residence can make no difference, for the 
police know every inhabitant of the city, and every alteration of 
abode is immediately noted. Disease among them is treated as a 
crime ; such as are thus guilty, are sent to the prison of St. La- 
zare to stay till cured. 

The whole system arises from an opinion, that this mass of 
moral evil is necessary, and absolutely beyond a cure. Whether 
this is true or not, I shall not now undertake to discuss ; but it is 
apropos to remark, that we all ought to understand the state of 
the question. For it is an actual and mighty leprosy of the social 
body, like intemperance, lotteries and gaming. About these and 
some other epidemic vices, every man is called upon, and bound 
most solemnly to act. It is consequently a duty, pressing him 
with equal force to think, investigate and decide. There are but 



112 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

two ways of treating these disorders of the state — for he is not a 
good citizen who does not regard them as such — one is extermi- 
nation ; the other regulation ; and people have arranged them- 
selves into two denominations, espousing respectively these diverg- 
ing modes. The subject is eminently practical ; but still cannot 
be trusted wholly to experiment. The advantages of control with 
respect to the femme publique are practically shown in the small 
amount of disease in this city, compared with London, New York, 
and even moral Boston, where the adverse theory of legal extir- 
pation is strongly practiced on, with all the favorable countenance, 
which public opinion can lend. Disease however is by no means 
a measure of the mischief, either to society, or this infected portion 
of it. Other consequences equally hateful flow from this copious 
fountain, and its very extent, however regulated, is itself an evil 
of alarming magnitude. But I have little time to mention even 
facts, and none at all to builpl theories on them. Of this class of 
persons the prison contains at present upwards of three hundred. 
They occupy the hospitals principally, which are large and com- 
modious. 

The third section contains the Orphan Children, who, having 
nothing to do, are begging in the city, and leading a vagabond 
life, like Fleur de Marie ; or making the first timid experiments 
in petty thieving. Such are taken from the streets, and placed 
here, where they often find better accommodations, and are really 
happier, than ever before at any period of their lives. 

In their treatment, conveniences, nourishment, and other par- 
ticulars, no difference is known among the classes. All are roused 
at six o'clock from their slumbers, and in half an hour proceed to 
their respective work-rooms, where they labor under the super- 
intendence of an officer. Needlework of various kinds is their 
chief employment. There is, however, a manufactory of paper 
boxes, and another of suspenders. The strict discipline, enforced 
in the American Houses of Correction, is not observed ; but 
every thing is conducted in a much more lenient way. The pris- 
oners are, not prevented from conversing together in the work 
rooms, if no noise is made to disturb the prevalent tranquillity. 



PRISON OF ST. LAZARE. 113 

On the entrance of any one, all stop their work to cast a glance, 
and sometimes a prolonged gaze, at the visitor, which furnishes a 
striking contrast to the manners of American institutions. No 
task is allotted, each laboring as she pleases, provided her indo- 
lence is not noticed by the superintendent. Work is continued to 
six o'clock p. m., interrupted only by their meals and hours of re- 
creation. This sounds strangely — recreation in a prison ! It is 
so, notwithstanding. Two hours a day — one in the morning, 
the other in the afternoon — all are permitted to walk in the court 
shaded by fine trees ; and there they laugh and sing and amuse 
themselves together, as much as they like, keeping within the 
limits of good order and decorum. In these courts are fountains, 
which are the general wash-bowls, but refreshing breezes are the 
only towels, which the government supplies. 

In this prison, as elsewhere, it may be seen, how much better 
it is to be a great rogue, than a small one : to steal a thousand 
dollars than to pilfer one ; for here, as at St. Pelagie, money 
will procure every object of desire. Six sous a week will buy 
the privilege of sharing a room with one or two others, and 
of working in it instead of the public shop. The ill health 
of the prostitutes confines most of them to the hospital. This 
is a long hall with partitions, extending only to the entry, which 
traverses the whole length of the edifice. This arrangement is 
attended with the advantage of supplying a number of separate 
rooms with an improved ventilation, and an easier superintendence. 
There are a resident physician and apothecary ; the physician 
en chef visits the establishment every morning. For punishment 
of bad behavior, the shower bath, black hole, and such like, are 
entirely unknown. The sole correction is solitary confinement in 
her room without change of food for four days at most. On ex- 
pressing my astonishment at its lightness, my conductor said that 
"solitary confinement is enough for women" In an adjoining 
chapel, those who are inclined, attend mass on the Sabbath ; the 
number of such amounts to about half of the inmates. The internal 
management is under the direction of the inestimable Sisters of 
Charity. These religieuses have the care of all the institutions in the 
7* 



114 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

city, where females are confined ; and their winning ways, and 
attractive kindness, have been the means of drawing many from 
the devious paths, into which they had been straying. The work 
executed here, is of the most perfect description ; funds are thus 
collected, which are remitted to them on their enlargement. 

The Prison for Debtors is situated in the Rue de Clichy, a re- 
tired quarter, where most of the English population live. To be 
a candidate for admission to this Retreat, a debt of thirty dollars, 
in the case of a foreigner, is a necessary qualification. It must be 
payable to the original creditor ; and the candidate must be un- 
der seventy years of age. No person can be arrested on a Sun- 
day, or fete day ; or in any place of religious worship, or of the 
constituted authorities ; or in any private house, if admittance is 
refused ; or between sunset and sunrise. These popular enact- 
ments naturally cause many debtors from England to take refuge 
in this city. The creditor, who puts a man in prison, must make 
a monthly advance of his board at the rate of six dollars per month ; 
neglecting which only for a day, the debtor is set at liberty. — 
The doors are opened to him at a fixed time, in proportion to the 
amount of the debt ; and the creditor has no further power to 
again confine him, the debt being thus legally cancelled. Im- 
prisonment for a debt, less than one hundred dollars, ceases in 
two years : in four years for two hundred dollars ; and in ten 
years for all sums above a thousand. 

The lot of these individuals is not very unfortunate. They are 
deprived of liberty indeed ; but they pass a life of ease at the 
cost of others, and, judging from their faces, I imagine they have 
a merry time of it. Notwithstanding the universal cry of free- 
dom, men in all countries are ever ready enough to sell it ; the 
only question being about the price. The twenty cents a day are 
given directly to the debtor, with which sum he is to provide 
himself with food and lodging. The government charges him 
six cents a day for his room, furnished with a bed, two tables 
and three chairs. One would think, it would puzzle him to keep 
house with the small remainder of this sum, even with an allow- 
ance of a sufficient length of tether to enable him to do his mar- 



DEBTORS' PRISON. 115 



keting himself. But most of them have money at command ; or 
friends, who come to see them, laden with provisions. Should 
no such providential manna be deposited for their gathering, 
they still can manage to keep the great enemy, hunger, at bay, 
and even pass the time quite comfortably. 

The whole interior administration is vested in a Committee of 
Ways and Means, elected by the prisoners. A republican gov- 
ernment is thus, you observe, already established in the heart of 
France. This Board have a table d'hote, where all, who wish, 
can take their meals at a stipulated sum per day. They have 
also a capacious kitchen, and grant every one the privilege of 
cooking whatever he chooses, for two cents daily, which is as- 
certained to remunerate them for the charcoal used. They have, 
beside, some property, which belongs to the prisoners ; such as a 
billiard table, a nine- pin alley, and other things, which they let 
to those who have money they can spare, at the rate, for in- 
stance, of two cents for thirty rolls at the alley. The friends of 
the prisoners are likewise allowed to spend their time with them 
from ten o'clock, a. m. to six, p. m. of every day. Each one has 
his room, which is furnished by himself, or friends, with various 
degrees of luxury according to his ability or taste. A fine gar- 
den, adorned with trees and flowers, affords an agreeable pro- 
menade ; and no labor is exacted, but every one consumes his 
time precisely as he pleases. Many individuals might employ 
themselves as well within these walls, as without ; tailors for in- 
stance. And so might the poet, the flight of whose fancy is not 
to be hemmed in by stone partitions. I mean this hint for his 
particular benefit, for though the poet's corner may be after 
death, in some grand old Westminster Abbey, it is, notwithstand- 
ing, in his life time, apt to be the inglorious debtor's prison. 
This, the only Institution for the confinement of debtors in the 
city, is capable of containing four hundred individuals ; but, at 
present, encloses only one hundred men, and eight women, who 
are kept, of course, in separate apartments. 

"We have always a good many of your countrymen," said the 
guide. What country? "English." I am not English, but 



116 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

American. " Ah ! we have but one now from America ; a Pre 
testant clergyman of New York," — well-known to the residents 
of West Point. Another was pointed out to me, as the son of a 
peer of France, who, having spent a fortune in prodigality, was 
expiating his indiscretion, and receiving, with the approbation of 
his father, some wholesome instruction in this severe school of 
economy. The penny postman had left his letters, and I had 
finished my visit ; so we both went out together. 




>•: 



mifiii 




OLOIIE BE JU'ILJLET. 



XX. 

Place de la Bastille — Column of July — Hotel de Ville — Palm Sun- 
day — Education — Louvre — Relics — Horse Market — Thiers. 

In the company of three friends, Drs. Carey of New York, and 
King and Davis of South Carolina, I set out to visit the Hotel de 
Ville ; for admittance to which I had written and procured let- 
ters of the proper authorities some days previous. By inatten- 
tion to the time specified in the billet, we arrived there about 
an hour too early. Unwilling to lose the time, we employed it 
in going to the Place de la Bastille. This spot is full of interest, 
having been the scene of many historical events. The Bastille 
has, however, disappeared, and in its place shoots up the high 
and beautiful column of July. It is constructed of bronze, rising 
to an elevation of one hundred and sixty-three feet, and measures 
twelve feet in diameter. A great deal of taste is displayed in 
this monument. Its pedestal stands upon a basement of white 
marble, supported by blocks of granite. Around this is a tessel- 
ated pavement of white and black stone, and finally a border of 
red Flemish marble, surmounted by an iron fence. At the an- 
gles of the monument is the cock, which is now an emblem of the 
French nation, though I do not know the reason ; perhaps from 
that well-known principle in Heraldry, by which arms possess in 
many instances a certain relation to names. Thus the ancient 
sovereigns of Dauphiny and Auvergne bore a dolphin on their 
shield ; the city of Lyons a lion ; that of Berne a bear. So 
Gallus, a Gaul or Frenchman, might for a similar reason assume 
the figure of the polite and gallant leader and champion of our 
poultry, as emblematic of his nation. The family of Law in 
Scotland, however, dispute the exclusive claim of the French to 

117 



318 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

this really noble bird. They bear this figure in their arms in 
allusion to the common method of expressing the cry of that 
bird among the Scotch " cocky — leery — Law." If it is of an- 
cient adoption among the descendants of the Gauls, I suspect this 
emblem has become more popular than formerly. The shaft of 
the pillar contains in large letters of gold the names of the five 
hundred and four citizens, who were killed during the three 
memorable days of July, 1830, and now lie buried beneath it. 
On the top of the monument is a gilt figure, representing the 
genius of liberty. This image is said to be one of very great 
excellence. What pleased, me more than anything was, to see 
the numerous wreaths, hung upon the pickets of the iron fence by 
the hands of affectionate relatives of the " glorious dead." I sup- 
pose, there were some twenty, many of them fresh, beside others, 
which had apparently hung there for a long time. Under the 
monument runs the canal St. Martin, which is spanned by one 
stupendous arch of masonry. It was here that Bonaparte in- 
tended to erect an immense elephant in bronze, which, with the 
tower, was to have been seventy-two feet high, from whose trunk 
a fountain was to play. The project was to construct it of can- 
non to be taken in Portugal and Spain, but, unfortunately for the 
plan, these were never captured, and by consequence, the mam- 
moth water-spout was never built. The plaster model, however, 
is remaining near the column. A monument on this plan is ex- 
pected to be erected shortly, but in another portion of the city. 

Returning from this digression to our primary destination, we 
entered the Hotel De Ville, or Town House, after lingering to ad- 
mire its elegant exterior. This, you may imagine, consumed some 
time, for it is one of the most beautiful buildings in Paris. It is in 
vain to attempt a description ; this must be reserved till my return. 
I will say, however, that it has turrets and minarets and windows 
and niches. These niches are filled with statues of the great men 
of France ; among whom I recollect Buffon, Rollin, Descartes, Sul- 
ly. This edifice was built by Philip Augustus, but, like the jack- 
knife, which had possessed seven new blades and live new handles, 
and yet remained the same instrument, the Hotel De Ville has 
been so thoroughly renewed, that its original founder himself 



PALM SUNDAY. 119 



could not possibly recognise it. The repairs are even not yet 
completed. This is the spot, where all the revolutions have com- 
menced, and which has witnessed most of the great political acts 
of these times. It was here from a window in the saloon of the 
throne, that Lafayette, having embraced Louis Philippe, presented 
him to the people. In this building, too, Robespierre held his 
council. The rooms, which are shown, with these exceptions, are 
devoid of peculiar interest, and only distinguished by the rich- 
ness of their furniture, their painted ceilings, silk and gold cur- 
tains, large mirrors, and similar embellishments. 

The recent snow and subsequent rain have plunged the streets 
into a condition by no means unusual to an American. Notwith- 
standing this, it being Sunday, there were crowds of people in the 
streets. Being unfavorable for promenading, they directed their 
steps in greater numbers than usual toward the churches. An- 
other reason beside, which influenced me, also attracted them. 
It was a fete day, Palm Sunday. Around the church of St. Sul- 
pice, which I attended, and others likewise which I passed, were 
many old men and women, having piles of a kind of green shrub, 
principally, if not entirely, box. A branch of this they sold for 
a sous. Every person who entered, that I saw, bore one of them. 
The numerous priests also, who assisted at the service, held them 
in their hands. On a strong box, placed to receive the contribu- 
tions of the charitable, I noticed a label, stating that it was intend- 
ed for those who wished to consume milk and butter during 
Lent. The heinous sin of this indulgence is wholly washed away 
by a few sous dropped into this receptacle, the number of which is 
governed, I presume, by the appetite of the contributor. Every 
day this form of religion becomes more and more disgusting. I 
do not think, however, that there is much hypocrisy among the 
people. It is simply, because their organ of faith must be re- 
markably large. This, I consider, originates in ignorance. The 
multitude of Paris are unacquainted even with the rudiments of 
education. If they can read at all, it is with so much- difficulty, 
as to give no pleasure. It is not uncommon for porters, concier- 
ges and others, to mention in their advertisements, that they can 
read and write. When they possess the ability to read, their 



X20 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

low wages allow them to buy few books, and their tastes select 
those of very indifferent character. The churches are therefore 
filled with the lower orders of men, and the higher classes of 
women. The latter are unfortunately not so well informed as 
in the United States. Two things are very rare here, though of 
perpetual occurrence in America — blue stockings and prudes. 
The former are rarce aves, the latter absolutely unknown. 

After church I went to the Louvre. A part of the old pictures 
has been taken away to make room for a yearly exhibition of the 
works of modern painters. This was the first day of public ex- 
hibition, since they have been placed there ; and notwithstanding 
the rain and' " slosh," the crowd was very great. The two sous, 
which are exacted for the care of umbrellas, must produce quite 
a sum for Louis Philippe. Speaking of umbrellas, they have an 
excellent custom at Paris in regard to the care of cloaks and other 
loose gear at all public places, and also at private balls, which 
ensures their safety. A number is attached to each article, which 
is then put away by a servant. A corresponding number is pre- 
sented to the owner, on the return of which, his property is in- 
stantly restored. How much better is this, than the vexatious 
exchange of garments at an American party or ball ! What a 
confusion of moveables and personal chattels ! What a disregard 
of old landmarks and notions of meum and tuum ! It is almost 
as hazardous to be the last to depart from an American assembly, 
as to sit down to a dinner table after the guests have risen. What 
a capital scheme this ticketing would be on steamboats to secure 
the re-appearance of one's boots ! At the masked balls a consid- 
erable revenue arises from the ten sous on each bundle. At the 
museums of Paris and Versailles, where two sous are charged on 
canes, parasols and umbrellas, which are prohibited from being 
carried into the galleries, the income is forty thousand dollars a 
year. 

In such a crowd it was quite impossible to observe the pictures. 
The critics, who have been permitted an entrance for several days, 
complain that the character of them is not equal to what it has 
been for several years past. In one thing, however, they are not 
inferior to the master-pieces of the old painters. They are in 



RELICS.— HORSE MARKET. 127 



general quite their equals in freedom from drapery ; not even a 
fig-leaf is thought necessary. Strange, when the actual men and 
women of society owe so much of their consequence to the tailor 
and dressmaker, that the mimic representations of them should 
dispense so entirely with their services. 

I have been to see the relics, of which I lately wrote. There 
were not so many, as I had heard, consisting only of the true 
crown of thorns, a piece of the true cross, and some nails which 
were used in fastening our Saviour upon it. All these I have 
seen, though at a little distance. They were placed on the altar 
of the cathedral of Notre Dame. The crown no longer. retained its 
thorns ; they had been broken off, and given to various churches. 
The remains were enveloped in a box of crystal, so overlaid with 
gold, that little, if any, of the wood was visible. The nails, which 
are described as red with the blood of our Saviour, were also en- 
closed in a case of gold, or gilt, so that they were in a great mea- 
sure concealed. The piece of the true cross was more exposed, 
and looked as if it might have been part of the panel of an old 
oaken door. A multitude of carriages was before the entrance, 
and the church was thronged with women. Though four or five 
thousand were probably present, its vast dimensions would have 
very easily admitted as many more. I heard, or rather saw, a 
sermon ; for on account of the distance of my seat from the priest, 
I could not hear a word ; yet I had the satisfaction of seeing him 
point frequently to these relics. The priests were allowed to ad- 
vance and kiss them ; but the poor public were only indulged 
with a look, and the liberty of " lifting up their eyes to Heaven 
arid saying, God be merciful to me a sinner." 

Let me say a word of the Horse Market, where I found col- 
lected five or six hundred horses of all kinds and conditions, from 
the immense Norman horses to such as resemble the American 
and Canadian. In the centre of the market was a course of about 
five hundred feet in length, where the speed of the animals was 
tried. Around it stood the jockeys with whips, whose privilege 
it was to strike every creature that passed. The poor beast in 
going round this ground would sometimes receive several hun- 
dred blows. The students of Paris are frequently " taking 



122 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

courses," on Chemistry, Theory and Practice of Physic, and other 
sciences ; — here were many engaged in " taking a course," on 
Anatomy ; for the skin and bones they bestrode, often could not 
merit a better name. On one side, a hill called an essai, with a 
steep ascent and descent, afforded an opportunity to test their 
strength, and this is done by attaching them to a cart with 
clogged wheels. 

Mons. Thier's new work, the " History of the Consulate," a 
sequel or continuation of his "History of the Revolution," has sold 
with unprecedented success. The newspapers state, that ten 
thousand copies were disposed of the first day, and the edition 
exhausted. The fame, which he acquired by his first work, sells 
the second. I have seen no report of its character. 

The French generally serve up every kind of food separately. 
But there is one dish in the dessert, which is a mixture, called 
les quatre mendiants — the last word not in the lexicon, meaning, 
eatables — consisting of filberts, almonds, raisins and figs. The 
melange which I have prepared, though it will not compare with 
the mendiants in relish or adaptation, can boast, you must cer- 
tainly confess, of a much greater number of ingredients. 



XXI. 

English — Washing Establishments — St. Sulpice — The "Swiss" 

Chamber of Feers — Traits in French Character. 

The twenty-third of last month was a great Fete day, and I 
went to the church of St. Roch, to hear mass. I am ignorant 
of the composer, but it was excellently chanted and sung by the 
first vocalists of the Italian Opera, It was with no little difficul- 
ty, that I effected an entrance into the building. At a very early 
hour, it was completely filled, and on my arrival, the soldiers ex- 
tinguished absolutely every hope of admittance. But, accidently 
I happened to overhear a gentleman remark to two ladies, that 
he had obtained leave to enter at a back door. On the instant, 
I followed them, and just as they were going to enter, taking the 
arm of one of the ladies, I very unblushingly walked in, not for- 
getting to thank her for thus successfully, though unwittingly, 
covering my attack. Notwithstanding this skilful manoeuvre, I 
was, after all, under the necessity from the immense press, of re- 
maining in one of the chapels, where, though I could hear perfect- 
ly, I was unable to see either singers, priests, or what all were more 
desirous of doing, the Queen, who regularly attends this church. 
It is wonderful to meet everywhere so many English men and 
women. There is scarcely a company into which I go, or a street 
I pass through, where I do not hear some one speaking my own 
tongue. And, indeed, without a word, it is easy to recognise 
them, especially the men, whose shaven faces and haughty strut 
betray them, accompanied, not unfrequently, with a rawness, 
which not only bespeaks a want of acquaintance with Paris, but 
even with good manners. Quite a common sign in the shop win- 
dows is — " English spoken here." 

123 



124 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

From sheer curiosity, just follow my "washing," in its per- 
ambulations through the city. A young girl takes it from my 
room, and carries it to the establishment of her mistress. Here 
every article is marked with a bit of thread. Thence it travels 
to the river at the dirtiest portion of it, where the city sewers 
disembogue their foul contents. At this delightfully selected 
spot are large houses built on boat-shaped foundations, two hun- 
dred feet long or more, two stories in height, and provided with 
windows, chimneys and other conveniences, like a common dwell- 
ing on the land. The lower story floor is nearly even with the 
water's edge, and open to the air. On this platform are to be 
seen some hundred or two women in each of these establishments 
engaged in cleansing the linen. One should never allow himself 
to imagine, even for a minute, that the chattel is his own, which 
he observes undergoing the torture of purification ; the conse- 
quences would assuredly be fatal to his peace of mind. When 
a man beholds his house burning up, he is in some sort recon- 
ciled to his misfortune by witnessing the manly efforts put forth 
by generous firemen to rescue his property. But he is reduced 
to positive despair, when he views the wanton exertions made to 
annihilate his nice shirts, and without any apparent compunctions 
of conscience. But labor is cheaper than soap, and therefore it 
is used with greater freedom. Economy is duly attended to ; but 
it is the economy of soap, and not of linen. Fuel, as well as 
soap, is so dear, that no one ever thinks of boiling the " white 
things," as in the United States. In the place of the former, 
they use Veau de javelle, which is nothing more nor less than lie, 
and so strong, as to flay the hand which touches it. This is 
applied without mercy. After this corrosive ablution, they are 
pounded with a wooden hammer, till every button on the shirt is 
broken, a signal, that they have been beaten enough. The poor 
victim is yet not entirely despatched ; there are still some re- 
mains of vigor left. This is soon dissipated, for it is next laid 
upon a board, and a brush of stiff bristles is energetically applied 
by a lusty woman. It is then rinsed in the yellow river, convey- 
ed to the room overhead and dried, returned to the first hands to 
be starched and ironed, and in a few days the bundle of rags ia 



CHURCH OF ST. SULPICE. 125 

brought home to the unconscious proprietor, who pays six sous 
for the transformation, and consigns it to the paper-maker. Two 
sous are charged apiece for a similar conversion of collars, hand- 
kerchiefs and hose. The consequence of all this is, that dirty 
shirts are so excessively numerous, as to become almost distinc- 
tive of a gentleman. To mark linen with indelible ink is perfect- 
ly useless ; after such a process, even Kidder's is invisible. 

The 24th was a decidedly musical day with me. I have al- 
ready given you a sketch of my morning and evening feasts, but, 
between the two, I was treated by a lucky accident with a cap- 
ital luncheon. Virginie came running to my room, and said, that 
I had better go to St. Sulpice — a step only from me — and hear 
the Hallelujah and Gloria. I was too late for the former, but 
the latter I heard. The immense church was crammed, the vast 
multitude uniting in the music with the hired singers and orches- 
tra. Never have I heard such music performed by such a choir. 
At a Methodist camp-meeting on Cape Cod, I once heard ten 
thousand people, or thereabouts, singing their humdrum melo- 
dies, but at this time the finest music in the world was sung by 
almost an equal number, led by a large choir of finished per- 
formers. I do not know, that I was ever so affected on any simi- 
lar occasion, as now, when the priest, taking the cross from the 
altar, and turning to the multitude, presented it in blessing them. 
With one accord all fell upon their knees, and bowed their heads 
in adoration ; then rising, every mouth was open, and every voice 
loud with the praise and glory of the Lord. Every voice but 
mine. I was completely choked. My heart came into my mouth ; 
it was impossible to utter a sound, and cold chills went and came. 
This strong effect was new and surprising. Yet it was not a re- 
ligious emotion. Strange to say, I do not remember thinking of 
the cause of this adoration. It was but an ecstasy of mere social 
feeling, which I doubt not many mistake for a more holy senti- 
ment. In the midst of all these solemn and impressive influences, 
I was strongly tempted to laughter. A poor girl, who was stand- 
ing in the passage, knelt down with all the rest, but the Swiss, or 
servant, who has the charge of preserving order, objected to her 
obstruction of the avenue, and asked her to remove. She arose, 



126 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

and again kneeled in the same place. He again insisted on her 
removal, but still again she persisted in occupying nearly the same 
position, and by the time the controversy was ended, the whole 
multitude had arisen. 

This Swiss is quite a prominent person in the church. He is 
dressed in scarlet, richly trimmed and adorned with gold lace, a 
chapeau with three corners, a sword by his side, and in his hand 
a baton of office perhaps five feet long, ornamented with a large 
gold head. Over one shoulder is thrown a scarf, which crosses 
the breast to the other side, extending to the knee, and is also 
highly embellished. This functionary precedes the priest in his 
short walk from the sacristy to the enclosure of the altar, making 
way for him by striking the stone floor violently and repeatedly 
with this truncheon. During the service of mass and other exer- 
cises, he marches round among the people, demanding offerings 
for the church, and followed by two priests with each a bag, one 
to contain collections for the church, the other those for the poor. 
At three sous for every chair, the amount so obtained is by no 
means small. 

In the afternoon of the twenty-sixth I went to the Chamber 
of Peers. To obtain admission a ticket is required, which is given 
by one of the members. On the point of entering, to my inex- 
pressible chagrin, I discovered, that I was in that agreeable po- 
sition called a dilemma, and termed by some elegant writers, a 
fix. My ticket was not to be found ! What was to be done ? 
Time pressed ; I did not despair of obtaining entrance however. 
I asked the guard, who declined to admit me without one, where 
I could get a ticket ? He said of the Swiss (or servant) below. 
I found him easily. On propounding the matter to him, he with 
solemn mystery and pretended secrecy, conducted me away from 
all observers, and said he had one ticket. On inquiring what he 
asked, he replied in the obsequious manner, which this class al- 
ways affect the world over, towards one whom they design to 
take in, " What you please." I was not born in New-England 
for nothing, and therefore discovered, that too much amour-propre 
costs very dear in France. Instead of two or three francs, which 
he probably thought would have been almost urged on him for a 



CHAMBER OF PEERS. ]27 

ticket, bought in a dark corner, and enveloped in mystery, he got 
a fifteen sous piece, which happened to be in my pocket. I begin 
to understand the people, and am no longer to be wheedled by 
bows, or overawed by bluster. I offer a man half what he asks, 
without a thought that I am insulting him. And, after all, I 
often think the purchase might have been made for half the price 
agreed to. Ah ! the French are a sorry people. A remark 
in the Britannia, a London paper, which I saw this morning, was 
so striking, that I give it to you with the endorsement of several 
Americans, to whom I read it — "France is only taking her 
first footsteps in civilization. This language would probably en- 
rage Frenchmen, who, by some original fantasy of their nature, 
always regard themselves as the first of mankind. But as they 
grow wiser, they will comprehend, that civilization does not mean 
glass and gilding, millinery and bon-bons ; but common sense 
common freedom, common law. In all these things Frenchmen 
are still but children, and children they will remain, so long as 
they think that plate glass and palaces, and boasting about 
France, and bravadoes against the world, are the substantial 
power of a nation." 

This is not telling you of the Chamber of Peers. I got in, as 
you have seen. It cost twice as much to see Gen. Tom Thumb. 
The room, where the public session is held, is extremely beauti- 
ful. It is in the form of a semicircle. In the middle of the axis 
are the seats of the President and Secretaries ; before them 
the rostrum, from which all the speeches are made. The chairs 
in front are for the members. They are lined with green and 
yellow damask. The carpets are of the same colors. The walls 
are brilliant with gilding, and the ceiling is painted with allegori- 
cal representations of law and justice. Around the walls are 
numerous busts of the Marshals of France, and pictures of 
scenes in the lives of Louis XL and Philippe of Yalois. I sat 
through the speeches of several of the honorable members, 
which were delivered with very little animation, employing 
myself in looking at their dresses. They all wore a coat with 
collar and cuffs embroidered in gold. This uniform, with vests, 
cravats and pants of all colors and shapes, reminded me of a 



128 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

stable boor, who slips on a white jacket to wait upon the table 
at dinner, but whose nether integuments reveal very plainly his 
more legitimate calling. As soon as the clock struck five, they 
all jumped from their seats with an alacrity unexpected from 
their gray hairs, and rushed to the doors; and, before the 
President could say, "session is adjourned," they were half 
of them in their carriages. Dinner bells have the same effect 
in French palaces as in the Mississippi River steamboats. 




ARC BE TMOMfflE BE E ET©ILE 



XXII. 

Arc de Triomphe — Wall of Paris — Duke of Orleans — Hia Death 
and Mausoleum — Consequences — Successor to Louis Philippe. 

On a fine day, a short time ago, Dr. Cary, of Buffalo, New 
York, accompanied me for a promenade in the Champs Elysees, 
We soon came to the Arc de Triomphe. Our attention being di- 
verted and engrossed by a great many equipages, which were 
being shown off by their aristocratic proprietors, the distance of 
three miles was insensibly passed. I shall not take up the space 
requisite for a description of this monument of the genius of Bo- 
naparte. I say of Bonaparte, because, though actually erected 
by Louis Philippe, it was the design of the Emperor. Passing 
the barrier, we came to the famous wall, which is now being 
built, and nearly completed, around the city. This evidence of the 
folly of legislation, though many think of the monarch's sagaci- 
ty, is a stupendous work. Independently of the cost of the land 
which it occupies, the expense of its erection alone has been im- 
mense. It is constructed of solid stone some twenty feet in height. 
This is encompassed by a deep trench, capable of being flooded, 
constituting an impassable moat from twenty to thirty feet wide. 
Earth is heaped up behind the wall, forming a solid massy ram- 
part. Numerous forts are interspersed along the line. What the 
eventual cost will be, it is quite impossible even to conjecture, 
In 1841, thirty millions of dollars were granted for the com- 
mencement. A day or two ago, Marshal Soult presented a bill 
to the Chamber of Deputies, asking an appropriation of three 
million dollars, and more, for the necessary guns and equipments. 
A newspaper of the humorous and satirical order, called the 
129 



130 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

Charivari, which, like the ancient court jesters, with its folly, ut- 
ters many truths, says, " M. Soult wants three million dollars for 
the fortifications. Surely, it is the policy of the Government to 
preserve peace at whatever expense." 

A little beyond the fortifications is the spot, where in 1842 
the Duke of Orleans, heir to the throne of France, breathed his 
last. All must recollect, for the tragical catastrophe concerned 
the world, that his horses, becoming unmanageable from fright, 
the Prince, in attempting to jump from his carriage, fractured his 
skull, and died in four hours after. He was borne into the shop 
of a grocer ; and on this spot has been erected by the King a 
most beautiful chapel, dedicated to St. Ferdinand. It is the most 
charming object that I have seen in Paris, or indeed anywhere 
else. The structure is but fifty feet in length, and twenty in 
height. There is nothing striking in its external appearance, ex- 
cept the cross, which surmounts it, and the windows, which are 
of a peculiar shape. Little of it can be seen from the street, as 
it is surrounded by a high wall. The interior is of white marble. 
Directly opposite the door of entrance is an altar to the Virgin, 
situated on the exact place, where the unfortunate Prince expired. 
This is surmounted by a fine statue of the Virgin and child 
The simple ornaments of the altar, candlesticks, cross, &c, are 
chased silver. At the right hand is a most touching monument, 
representing the Prince upon his death-bed, enveloped in a cloak, 
which however does not conceal the star upon his breast and the 
epaulet upon his shoulder. At the head of his pillow is an en- 
chanting " Spirit," with expanded wings, in the attitude of sup- 
plication. Nothing on earth can be more pathetic than this. I 
defy any one to look upon it without being affected to tears. 
The monument is in two parts, but so delicately joined, that an 
observer does not at first notice the fact. The *' Spirit " is the 
work of his deceased sister, the accomplished Princess Marie, who 
little imagined it was one day to serve for the mausoleum of her 
brother. The rest is by Triqueti, from a sketch by Mons. A 
Scheffer. The windows are of colored glass, depicting the pa- 
tron saints of the family. The pavement consists of white and 



DUKE OF ORLEANS.— HIS DEATH. 131 

black marble. In a small room behind the altar is a painting of 
great merit, which must have been placed there within a short 
time, as the date upon it is 1844, but I neglected to take the 
name of the artist. It is a literal representation of the closing 
scene in the life of the deceased, who is represented lying on a 
bed placed upon the floor. His features have already assumed 
the ashy hue of death. He is dressed in a shirt open at the 
neck, with the red pantaloons of his uniform. A priest is in the 
act of applying vinegar to his nostrils. Behind, attentively 
watching, are his physicians, hastily called, and another priest. 
At the foot of his bed kneels the king, no longer a king, but a 
father. The queen and two of his sisters are on their knees by 
his side. A little behind them stand two of the younger bro- 
thers, and at the door Marshal Soult, Guizot, and the aide-de- 
camp of the dying Prince. It is a very impressive tableau 
indeed, and, aside from the fine execution and excellent likenesses 
of the piece, the interest of the scene is very great. 

The death of the Due D 'Orleans was not merely a domestic be- 
reavement to the reigning family. It was a momentous loss to 
France and to the world. The consequences are yet to come. 
The throne, on the death of the present tenant, will descend to 
the son of the deceased, the youthful Count of Paris, who is not 
more than eight or nine years of age. During his minority the admin- 
istration of affairs will devolve on the Due de Nemours, who is by 
far the most unpopular of the princes. There are besides two 
competitors for the succession, who have numerous and ardent ad- 
herents, and who are all prepared for a desperate contest for 
the supreme power. The claims of the House of Bourbon are 
strongly advocated in private. Many seize every opportunity to 
decry the present king. By a base artifice, practised by lying 
politicians on the everlasting gullibility of the common people 
on both sides of the water, and meant to rouse the slumbering 
fires of national jealousy, they say, that he has submitted to be 
dictated to by England. That he has allowed the Great Nation 
to be humbled, in consequence of which the eye of Europe is no 
longer fixed on France, to inquire what step she shall next pre- 



132 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

sume to take. These angry declamations they universally finish 
by adding, to my unutterable astonishment, " that it was not so 
under the Bourbon dynasty." My surprise is owing to the cir- 
cumstance, that, though not old enough myself to have a person- 
al or contemporary knowledge of that portion of the world's his- 
tory, yet I have a feeble remembrance of hearing my father say, 
that the Bourbon dynasty of our times was fed, clothed, housed, 
and nursed by England ; and, when it was not able to walk alone, 
from sheer debility, was taken in her brawny arms, carried back 
to Paris, and made to sit upright on the French throne. She also 
put a sceptre into the hands of this remnant of the Bourbons, 
and tried to make the monarch hold it, but it dropped almost 
immediately from his puny grasp. Louis Philippe picked it up, 
and has held it ever since, and will continue to wear it, till death 
shall dissolve his hold, and mingle his ashes with those of his 
lamented son. To him he would doubtless have bequeathed it, 
"but destiny denied." 

Again there are many, who are dazzled by the glorious monu- 
ments of Napoleon. These sigh for a return of that stirring and 
brilliant epoch, when the French Empire was the fear and won- 
der of the universe. Of course they aim at the restoration of his 
power. They do not want a niggardly prince, they say, who 
seeks to fill his coffers, and provide a magnificent revenue for each 
of his many sons. 

But in the meantime Louis Philippe is no fool. His gray hairs 
cover no empty caput. He sees as far into the dark as most 
men, his enemies not excepted. "Wrecked in his early hopes 
and fortunes, expelled from his country, and abandoned to wan- 
der, like Ulysses, over the face of the earth in grief and want, he 
did not return without bringing back with him to his native land 
some of the wisdom and experience, which marked that acute 
Greek. When the world beholds upon the throne, a man, who 
has gone to school, like him, to poverty and misfortune, and been 
taught by them to contend with hardships and vanquish diffi- 
culties, they may be sure they see a constitutional master, as 
Government ought ever to be, of a free people, and not the 



LOUIS PHILIPPE. 133 



miserable pageant of a palace ; one, who is " every inch a king," 
and neither the organ nor contemptible tool of a mob. He is 
as profoundly sensible, as any one, that waves of trouble may 
ere long break upon his house, and is anxiously preparing for the 
possible event. The bit of red ribbon worn in the button-hole, 
which catches the eye so frequently in the street, costs nothing, 
and gains a man. His sons, whom he has pushed forward in the 
army and navy to the highest posts, reflect upon his family some 
portion of the glory won by the conquests in Algeria, and cause 
the names of Orleans and victory to be sometimes mentioned 
together. These redound not only to the honor of France, but 
illustrate the name also of Louis Philippe. Numerous cheap 
portraits of the Royal Family are framed and hung up in the 
apartments of the peasant and mechanic — will they avail no- 
thing ? The large picture of one of the battles of Algeria, now 
exhibiting in the Louvre, the largest painting in the world, and 
by the first master of the age, representing the victory of the 
French arms, and a son of Louis Philippe, surrounded by fugi- 
tives imploring safety — will this have no effect ? Ah ! the forty 
thousand dollars paid for it to the great Horace Yernet were not 
badly invested ; and the hundred thousand dollars to be paid for 
the battle of Isly to the same illustrious master, who has already 
gone to Algiers to view the localities, when viewed in connection 
with the mild beneficence and uninterrupted prosperity of the 
present reign, must also contribute its mite in promoting the 
tranquillity of the succession of his family. 

While he thus captivates the popular mind, the king does not 
neglect the opposite class. With all the irreligion existing in the 
kingdom, there is an abundant mixture of piety, and this is the 
more active, because it is obliged to struggle with difficulty. He 
therefore does not overlook this conservative spirit. His wife 
and daughters are assiduous in their attendance on divine wor- 
ship. So bigoted is the queen, indeed, that she ascribes the 
death of her son to the fact of his being a protestant, and is said 
even to persecute his widow, almost unceasingly, for her adher- 
ence to this faith. 



134 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

I saw, a few days ago, a tall, fine-looking woman in the street, 
who was evidently shopping, as she stood a long time regarding 
the goods exhibited in the Magazin de Grand Conde, immediately 
opposite my apartments. My " know-every thing," Virginie told 
me it was a cousin of the Empress Josephine. I took my hat 
and went out to see her, but she looked to me just like — a cou- 
sin of anybody else. 



XXIII. 

Exhibition of Flowers and Fruit — Love of Flowers — Flower Girls 
— Horse Races — Auber — War between England and America. 

To-day I have been to see — and I know how yon would have 
rejoiced to accompany me — the show of flowers and fruits, which, I 
think, is held annually at the palace of Luxembourg. This is not 
the exhibition of a society, but individuals are induced to present 
their productions in the hope of obtaining rewards or commenda- 
tion from the committee. This committee is appointed, I believe, 
by the Government, and the money for the prizes is contributed by 
public -spirited individuals. In addition to the former usage, this 
year medals were offered by the Duchesses D'Aumale and Ne- 
mours. The prizes had been awarded previously to my visit, and 
in the various collections were placed the owners' names, and no- 
tices like the following : " The medal of the Duchess de Nemours ;" 
"Frst prize-medal of the ladies;" "Honorable mention, third prize," 
<fcc. The flowers were arranged on the lower floor of the palace, 
a situation far from favorable ; first, because of its darkness, and 
next, from its contracted space. One would suppose that a palace 
could afford a suitable apartment for an appropriate display. It 
is certain, that, if there is one, it was not used on the present oc- 
casion. The windows were obscured with curtains, lest the sun 
might injure the flowers placed near them. While I gazed upon 
these plants, a comparison spontaneously arose in my mind with 
those exhibited every Saturday at the Horticultural Room in Bos- 
ton, where, you know, I was a regular attendant. After a slight 
description, you shall have the effect which they had upon me. 

The show was to continue four days, and this was the morning 
of the third. As there were few or no cut flowers, their ap- 

135 



136 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

pearance was little, if any, inferior to that of the first day. You 
know the species, which bloom at this season in the United States. 
Here were very few, if any, different sorts. There were Rhodo- 
dendrons, Azalias, and Heaths of numerous descriptions in very 
fine condition. The latter were in great variety, and superior to 
anything of the kind that I ever saw at home. As they are 
indigenous here, growing spontaneously in the country, the soil 
and climate necessarily cause this superiority. The next largest 
family was the Camellias. These were very few in number, and 
the varieties quite limited. I was sadly disappointed at their 
paucity. A few white, and some red, were very good. The 
Roses white, yellow, tea and common monthly, were very poor. 
No Tulips were to be seen, but Hyacinths bloomed in large variety, 
and were very excellent ; also a few Pionies. And here the list 
must close, with the exception of a few strangers, such as Cacti, 
Magnolias, &c, perhaps a dozen of each. As to fruit, little 
could be expected at this period of the year, and therefore no 
disappointment was felt on beholding two or three dozen apples 
and pears, a few green figs, grapes from Mons. S. Rothschild's 
green-house, and strawberries of the same cultivation in pots, of 
course not numerous. They also reckoned one cauliflower, one 
cucumber, a few cherries and such like, all growing in pots. In 
short, take it altogether, don't you think it rather meagre ? 

In an adjoining room were tools of every description for tilling, 
grafting, &c, but all on the small garden scale. I did not see a 
plow or pitch-fork ; nothing but little implements for Countesses 
to scratch the dirt with, and to help Duchesses cut bouquets. 
The apartment contained plenty of books on the cultivation of 
Pansies, (which I neglected to state, formed a conspicuous part of 
the display) also on flower gardening ; in short, everything of 
the nice, pretty order — altogether French — nothing on farming, 
the method of growing good fruit, or vegetables — nothing Ameri- 
can. There were pictures of flowers, much handsomer than the 
originals, and artificial ones, exquisitely natural, though possess- 
ing the same fault as the pictures ; for the French flatter even 
nature herself. So far, indeed, as the texture was concerned, I 



EXHIBITION OF FLOWERS 137 

hesitated, whether they were real or not. I considered, that they 
might be extremely fine specimens of the work of nature in a 
happy moment. They are made, however, from something like 
the rice paper of the Chinese. I never beheld better imitations 
of Camellias and Carnations. 

If they go on at this rate, the time may come, it is not at all 
improbable, when nature will give up the trouble of producing 
flowers to the ingenuity of the French, while she herself shall con- 
fine her whole attention to the growing of the more substantial, but 
coarser esculents, such as corn, cabbages and potatoes, in which 
department she encounters no competition from them at present. 
It is to be hoped, however, that she will never go so far as to 
desert the regular and time-honored way of propagating men and 
women, the latter especially, and so permit the tailor and dress- 
maker to fabricate them entirely — as they already do to a start- 
ling degree, of " wood, hay, stubble," and any kind of bone, ex- 
cept their own. Should such a revolution ever happen, I pray 
that it may be postponed beyond my day ; else my long, labori- 
ous attendance on hospitals of maternity, and kindred institutions, 
will avail me nothing in my anticipated practice among the fair 
portion of the community of New York. 

Among the plants, that might be termed rare, were one or two 
specimens of a shrub, which grows wild throughout New England, 
called Lamb's kill, or Lamb's bane. It made me almost sigh, 
again to behold it growing on its native hills, where I have so 
often viewed its showy blossoms in the company of some, alas, 
whose faces I shall see no more forever. 

Another room contained, among other things, stands of wire- 
work, and ornamental flower pots. Out of doors were hand 
pumps for watering. A great curiosity was a piece of Guano, 
which is just begun to be imported. 

This exhibition on the whole disappointed me extremely. The 
flowers were quite handsome ; yet their number was small, and 
their varieties very limited. But France has long been behind- 
hand in the horticultural art, and it is not to be expected, that 
enthusiasm and consequent improvement will revive immediately. 



138 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

But the same guardian hand, which has for fourteen years done 
so much to increase the general prosperity of the State, will un- 
doubtedly continue the noble work so auspiciously commenced . 
Should life be spared him, we may look with confidence for bet- 
ter things. 

The habits of the people encourage the cultivation of flowers. 
I never saw a population, who seemed so passionately fond of 
them. Shut up and imprisoned, as they are, among these old 
gray walls, the sight of blossoms of the earth have to them a pe- 
culiar charm. Rigolette of Eugene Sue memory exemplifies this 
taste. Every body almost has them, from the rich and noble, 
whose wealth supplies them with green-houses and gardens, to 
the grisette in the garret, who feels more pleasure in spending 
four or five sous — a quarter of her day's labor — in the purchase 
of her little pot of violets, or lady's delight, than her wealthy 
neighbor does with his superb bouquets of choicest exotics. This 
petit pot shares the window seat with a sweet rose bush, and they 
equally divide the attention of their mistress. Ah ! she is quite 
happy, when the returning Sunday allows her to promenade with 
her simple bouquet in her bosom, composed of the two flowers 
grown on her own little plants at home. 

You remember how the flower girl has been depicted. Such 
beauty, as has been given her, must have been seen in some va- 
gary of the imagination. Go over the whole of Paris, and I chal- 
lenge a person to find one who is passably pretty. The actual, 
bona-fide flower girls, are old women, who sit near the bridges or 
in the crowded streets, engaged in making ugly bouquets, com- 
posed of about ten little violets, placed in a ring round an artifi- 
cial rosebush, (now when roses are so rare,) two green leaves out- 
side, and an envelope of white paper; all which with a most 
shocking voice they entreat you to purchase for one sous. -This 
little violet (like the. double violet we used to have in our garden 
at Roxbury) is a very favorite flower, and vast numbers are sold 
to all classes of people in this one sous form. You may frequently 
see the workman in his blouse, and the fine lady, purchasing at 
the same stand together ;. and the exquisite promenading with one 



HORSE RACING. 139 



in his buttonhole but at a little distance from the poor girl with 
a huge pack on her back, and the omnipresent bouquet in her 
bosom. Grisi at her benefit had one thrown to her as large as 
a cabbage. As this was in the dead of winter, it was very ex- 
pensive, costing about twenty dollars. 

Sunday, 20th. I have been quite unwell all day with a most 
violent colic. I was awakened at five in the morning, and till 
eleven was in great pain. At one I arose and dressed ; since 
then I have suffered only occasional touches. Every body cooks 
in copper vessels, which however are usually tinned. This wears 
off gradually, and the first notice of the event, as to-day, comes 
in the shape of an excruciating colic to all the members of the 
family. 

Since one o'clock I have been to see the horse races, which com- 
menced to-day. Yes, it is Sunday, but we must economise in 
Paris. It costs nothing to go to the race, but the English churches 
cost a franc. Then, too, one wishes to see the races, and Sunday 
is the day. The Dukes D'Aumale and De Nemours were there. 
M. Rothschild was there, and one of his horses beat. More than 
30,000 other people were there, and the day was Sunday. O 
land of the puritans, that condemns lotteries and horse races ! 
what think you of the nation, where one is run upon the Sabbath, 
and the other managed by the church ? No one cares, whether 
the horse Prince, this or that, Duke B. or C. were victors ; or 
whether two or three men were thrown off in jumping the fences 
in the hurdle race. Nobody cares, so I turn my back on the 
whole matter, and as the fashion goes, condemn the fault, which 
I have no longer a desire to practise. 

Auber has written a new opera called Barcarolle, which is said 
not to equal his former ones. Nobody wants to hear it, for they 
have not yet heard his old ones. There is great talk between 
the English and Americans in regard to the bellique threats be- 
tween the two nations. It seems to be the general conclusion, 
that it is a battle of words, conducted on the principles of Brag. 
One thing looks squally though, if it is true, as has been affirmed, 
that Gen. Thomas Thumb has been sent for by Mr. Polk, and 



140 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

requested to hasten home with his war-horses, uniform and sword. 
The moment I hear that the General has left the country, I 
shall hurry after him with a new set of surgical instruments, be- 
cause I am certain, there will be something to pay whithersoever 
he shall go. 

The Fete of the King will take up one day, and then on Sat- 
urday I go to Versailles, intending to view the Museums and the 
celebrated Water Works, which are' played very rarely, on ac- 
count of the immense expense of nearly two thousand dollars a 
day, as it is asserted. 



XXIV. 

Prisons of Paris — St. Pelagie — La Force — Nouvelle Force — Its 
Singular Construction — Maison Centrale D'Education Correc- 
tionnelle — Remarkable Form and Peculiar Discipline. 

Having a convenient opportunity, I send you another of my 
letters on the prisons of Paris, to which I some time ago referred. 
One of them is St. Pelagie, in the Rue de la Clef, and was for- 
merly a convent of nuns, which, among the convulsions of that 
terrible epoch, was suppressed with so many others. It has 
since served as a prison for debtors, till very lately, when it has 
been used for the confinement of those condemned for a period 
not exceeding a year, and for political offenders committed for 
trial, or sentenced for a short time. The latter have distinct 
apartments from the others, and are not compelled to labor. This 
old and badly-contrived building is capable of containing five hun- 
dred and fifty persons, and generally has its complement. The 
prisoners are all male, and employed in making list shoes, brushes, 
friction matches, and other things. The food does not differ ma- 
terially from that in other prisons. Six ounces of meat twice a 
week are each man's allowance. They perform their ablutions 
at the fountain in the great court, which also supplies them with 
abundance of healthy beverage; and time, that dries the wet 
eye everywhere, is here the only napkin after washing. 

I advise every one who steals in France to take something of 
value ; for money makes a wide distinction in the condition of the 
prisoner. With silver in his pocket, he can, even when condemn- 
ed, feed on chickens and the fat of the land ; clothe himself in 
silks and velvet ; repose upon a couch of down in a private room, 
furnished with the finest linen sheets, changed as often as once 
in twenty days at least, and live like a gentleman, that is, do no 

141 



142 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

work, unless he wishes, which a gentleman never does, of course. 
The pitiful sum of six sous a day confers these precious privileges. 
Indeed, those who have the good fortune to be masters of a nice 
trade, may earn sufficient by it to purchase these luxuries, and 
at the same time avoid the severe labors of the penitentiary, which 
others must undergo. 

There is not such discipline as I expected to find. When I en- 
tered with the intendant, all the prisoners were talking together 
in the hall, with no one to oversee their labor. Every person 
turned to gaze at the stranger, and most of them touched their 
hats to me. What a striking contrast to the manners in American 
prisons, where none dares to turn his eyes, or raise them from 
his work ! There is nothing distinguishing in their dress ; each 
one retains the clothes he had on entering. When his term of 
punishment is completed, if the convict has no dress of his own, 
he is supplied by the government with a suit of clothes, and 
forthwith consigned to the House of Correction at St. Denis, to 
work there, till he shall have earned sixty francs to pay for it. 

The only punishment is the dungeon. There are two, com- 
posed of large rooms with the windows of one partially blind- 
ed, but still admitting light enough to read with ease. An in- 
clined plane of boards serves as a bed for the refractory. Bread 
and water only are granted for the first fifteen days ; afterwards 
the usual allowance is made. A less offence is expiated by con- 
finement in the other cell, which is not so dark as this, where a 
more nutritious diet, than bread and water are said to be, is pre- 
scribed. By special permission, the wives of the prisoners are 
indulged with visits to their husbands in their cells twice a week 
for several hours. Ai. other order grants the liberty of conversa- 
tion once or twice a week, according to its terms, in a public 
room with an officer on guard. Still another certificate confers 
the privilege to converse in the grated parloirs. 

The prison, called La Force, is made up of buildings part of 
which formerly composed the hotel of the Duke de la Force, and, 
like all structures which have been diverted from their original 
design, are more or less inconvenient. In 1780 they were con- 
verted into a prison for prostitutes ; and about the same time an- 



LA NOUVELLE FORCE. 143 

other was erected by its side for a similar purpose. These were 
united in 1830, the females removed to St. Lazare, and the whole 
devoted to persons committed for trial. The inmates are classi- 
fied as follows. Old offenders form one class ; those committed 
for acts of violence, another; old men above sixty, and boys 
under eighteen, are respectively kept by themselves. The rest 
are divided into the peaceable and quiet, and turbulent and 
quarrelsome. In this prison there are no single cells, but the 
dormitories contain from four to thirty each. No work is re- 
quired, except of the young boys, to whom a life of idleness 
would be eminently injurious. All may labor, however, who wish ; 
the work principally done being the manufacture of list shoes. 
The sleeping room of the boys is divided into dormitories with a 
bed for each, which are separated from each other by their parti- 
tions. The front is latticed, and open on the passage way. The 
whole structure possesses very little interest; — old and incon- 
venient, it will soon be superseded by La Nouvelle Force, a cellu- 
lar prison, which is now being erected in the same faubourg de 
St. Antoine. 

This structure is now in the process of erection upon an entire- 
ly new plan, at a cost of more than eight hundred thousand 
dollars. Though three years of labor have been bestowed upon 
it, still it is not sufficiently advanced to convey an adequate notion 
of its future character. It is to resemble a fan, each stick of 
which, to the number of seven, will be a wing, and the corridors 
of all will terminate at a central point, commanding the entire 
establishment. The structure is to be three stories in height, and 
is intended to contain twelve hundred prisoners. Between the 
wings are to be open courts for the due exercise of the inmates. 
The point of junction of the united wings on the first floor, is to be 
used as a place for stripping the prisoners, as they enter, to as- 
certain that they have no arms or prohibited articles on them. 
Above will be a chapel, and the doors of each cell will be so 
adjusted, that the tenants can look upon the priest without being 
visible to each other. The handle of the fan will comprise the 
apartments of the superintendent and officers, and the entrance 
will be at its extremity. 



144 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

This, when completed, will be the second cellular prison in 
Paris. The other can scarcely be called a prison, indeed, for 
though the persons detained there are kept apart in cells, it is 
rather a house of correction. This is situated in the rue de la 
Boquette, and has the name of Maison Centrale D' Education 
Correctionelle, but sometimes spoken of as the Prison des Jeunes 
Detenus. The form of the building is remarkable, and has, I 
think, on a hasty reflection, a great many advantages over the 
numerous other plans on which these institutions have been built. 
This structure, enclosed within two massive stone walls of im- 
mense height, is a regular hexagon, with circular turrets at each 
corner, and four stories high. The apparently diminutive size of 
the windows, though in reality they are sufficiently large, the cir- 
cular turrets of ponderous stone, of which material all the build- 
ing is constructed, and the frequent groups of soldiers around, alto- 
gether give it the air of a feudal castle, as it lives in our imagination, 
rather than a stronghold for convicts. Its internal form cannot 
be better described, perhaps, than by comparing it to a wheel, 
the rim of which is formed by the hexagon, the spokes by piles 
of buildings, which rise from the turreted corners, and converg- 
ing, though not meeting, but abruptly breaking off, are united 
with a circular building in the centre by means of iron bridges in 
each story. Six courts are thus produced of the same shape and 
size, which, being planted with trees, still young, supply a place 
of exercise for the prisoners. The building in the centre is now 
used for a chapel ; the rest of the structure is divided into cells. 
The stairs are all placed in the turrets. 

The convicts are young boys under sixteen, who have been 
sentenced for petty thefts or vagabondism ; the term of confine- 
ment being of unequal length, but never extending beyond twenty- 
one years of their age. Within the last six years, an entire revo- 
lution has taken place in the government of this institution. Before 
that time, the youths were classified according to age and size ; 
and, as much as possible, with reference to the turpitude of their 
offences. These classes were kept so scrupulously distinct, as not 
to be suffered to see each other : but still, all those of the same 
class wrought, ate, and played together. It was by and by con- 



SOLITARY CONFINEMENT. 145 

ceived, for many reasons ; more particularly from the astounding 
discovery, that, of one hundred who were liberated at the com- 
pletion of their term, eighty returned hither, or were sentenced to 
a similar place ; that the seeds of vice, instead of dying, were 
only planted in a hot-bed, to germinate and bear a fearfully in- 
creased harvest of crime. As a matter of experiment, and in 
the confidence that no worse consequences could possibly ensue, 
another plan of treatment was adopted, which, at the very out- 
set, was adapted to strike one as excessively cruel, and, in all 
probability, productive of effects no less injurious than the for- 
mer, though of a different nature. Entire seclusion — solitary 
confinement, for hardened criminals, convicted of the most horri- 
ble outrages against the laws of God, humanity, and their country 
— has encountered the opposition of many and most powerful 
antagonists. They have pronounced it cruel in every view, 
and worse than death ; and there are not a few, who deny that 
the human mind possesses a capacity to bear up against the 
awful monotony and oppressive load of perpetual isolation and 
silence. If such views are held in relation to minds of hardened 
maturity, how much more plausibly may it be urged against a 
similar imprisonment of the young, whose feebleness, want of 
cultivation, and ignorance, combine to disqualify them for sup- 
porting the utter forlornness of such complete desertion ! 

Looking at such facts, and their alleged consequences, govern- 
ment has thought to remove these unhappy effects by employing 
the mind; thus obtaining all the benefits, without the oppos- 
ing evils, of solitary confinement. The youth have therefore 
been placed in a private cell, and detained there not unfrequent- 
ly four or five years, without a sight of any human face, except 
occasionally that of a visitor, or his own officers ; never hearing 
for all that long period the sound of the voice, or witnessing a 
single feature of his next neighbor, separated from him merely 
by a distance of little more than a foot. The only circumstance, 
that can -ever vary the wearisome monotony of such a life, is his 
labor. In his little cell are placed his bed, a chair or two, 
his work bench and tools. The youthful convict, on entering, is 
indulged with the choice of one of the twelve trades carried on 
9 



146 OLD WINE IN- NEW BOTTLES. 

in the establishment. The different divisions are now merely 
the different trades, to each of which a master workman is at- 
tached, who is styled the teacher, whose duty is to instruct the 
youth in his particular branch. Another teaches reading, writ- 
ing, and arithmetic, and some have a professor in drawing, or 
rather, in design. The trades are turning, cabinet work, wood 
carving, various kinds of iron work, etc. 

The order of the day is somewhat as follows : Rising at seven 
o'clock, two hours are given to labor before the first meal at nine. 
The nourishment is much better than in any other prison, as 
youth, on its passage to manhood, is thought to require a more 
nutritious diet than a person at maturity. All the bread is white. 
After breakfast, a space of an hour or two is devoted to study. 
I saw writing books in some of the cells, which contained very 
creditable specimens of their accomplishment in that neglected 
and undervalued branch of the fine arts. A translation of the 
Penny Magazine was one of their reading books ; this indicates 
a considerable advance ; for when they enter, scarce a single boy 
can read a word. An hour in the forenoon, and an equal length 
of time in the afternoon, are given up to recreation. One would 
suppose this almost impossible in the case of these solitary be- 
ings ; but on the contrary, I remarked that those occasions were 
enjoyed in the true spirit of the grant, and in real earnest. Each 
boy is sent by himself, for the purpose, into one of the courts ; 
and there, alone, he engages at once with the elastic alacrity of 
youth in some spirited juvenile sport, as trundling hoop, and rolling 
ball. These pastimes are prosecuted with an ardor, which indicates 
a delight scarcely, if any, less than persons of a similar age expe- 
rience in mingling with their mates and companions in the diver- 
sions on the green, free common of a village school. It is a 
strange sight to observe pleasure and punishment, which in the 
progress of vice are cast into scenes far asunder, brought here 
side by side into a single picture. Labor fills up the rest of the 
day. 



XXV. 

Methods of getting a Living among the Poor — Bread — Chiffoniers — 

Dogs. 

There are many ways of getting a livelihood in Paris. This 
is not difficult — for those who have education ; but the ignorant 
and poor are reduced to all sorts of expedients. One, who has 
ten or fifteen dollars at command, purchases a vehicle mounted 
on two wheels, with the body suspended on springs. His credit 
will fill this with commodities of various kinds. Another pro- 
cures fruits, which he divides into piles, according to the quality, 
and sells at different prices. A third gets a supply of paper, 
blank books, ink, sealing wax, and the " everything" necessary 
to make one an accomplished writer. A fourth collects glass 
ware, crockery for the table and kitchen, spoons, knives and 
forks, and a dozen other articles, starts on a pilgrimage, and 
offers everything he has at the same price. Being blessed with 
fine lungs, all these make themselves heard at an immense dis- 
tance, the high shrill tones of the women making full compensa- 
tion for any want of force. A slight nasality proves very 
attractive to customers. Tous les articles du bureau pour huit 
sous/ Tout qu'il faut pour la cuisine pour dix sous! Voyez 
mesdames ! And so they go, making a confounded, everlasting 
clatter under one's windows all day long. With the aid of a 
candle enveloped in red paper, the same clamorous traffic is 
continued till ten o'clock at night. But what is the commotion, 
yonder? Look! The ambulatory shop, which has been be- 
sieged for a long time at the corner of the street by spectators 
and purchasers — none are too proud to buy of them — is suddenly 
darting away at a speed, which threatens destruction to its 

147 



148 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

fragile commodities. What is the mighty cause ? Do you see 
two men in black dresses and white buttons, with cocked hat 
and sword, just entering the street ? With what a self-import- 
ant gait they walk ! Those are gentlemen of the police. The 
law forbids these perambulating merchants to stop, and these are 
the officers to enforce its sanctions. The penalty is fine, and 
confiscation of the goods. 

Begging is another method. This being prohibited, innumer- 
able artifices are in use to evade the law. In the portals of the 
churches, old men and women sit with a brush wet with holy 
water, and expect a sous or two for their trouble. On the 
bridge called Pont des Arts, sits a blind old woman with a roll 
or two of pencils before her. Give her a sous, and take or leave 
a pencil, as you please. She prefers the latter. Sometimes one 
is accosted a dozen times an hour by persons, who have a paper- 
cutter, on a quarter-quire of paper, which they pray you to buy 
for the love of Heaven, and in mercy for many starving wives 
and children at home. Hand-organs, wonderful infantine pro- 
digies, who play marvellously on wretched fiddles and harps, 
accompanying their instrumentation with voices, calling on the 
spirits of the high notes of a song, but which refuse to come 
when called. A few days ago, in the court of a respectable 
house, I heard a strange noise, which no fancy in fine frenzy roll- 
ing on my part was able to manufacture into music. On exam- 
ination, I found it was a man who owned good lungs, if he had 
no ear. Unable to procure a crank-going instrument, and lack- 
ing skill to perform on any other, he had got a French horn, and 
through this he was blowing a hurricane, till the occupants of 
the chambers should be willing to capitulate. 

Connected with the musical line of business is the Block-tin 
cock seller. This branch of trade is much greater here than in 
America, arising principally, as I judge, from the fact, that all 
the water drunk, comes from the river Seine, which, being turbid, 
requires filtration. Every family is therefore provided with an 
instrument for the purpose, whose cocks are frequently getting 
out of repair. This itinerant carries on his shoulders a sort of 
monument-shaped contrivance, composed of an odd mixture of 



WAYS OF LIVING. 149 



bright tin, and red or some other showy colored velvet. This 
contains numerous perforations, into which is thrust his mer- 
chandise. To draw attention to his wares, he carries a trumpet, 
which he blows with very little cessation. A handsome young 
merchant passes by my apartments almost daily, who plays 
several tunes, and really quite skilfully. 

Another of the sounding brass and tinkling cymbal race are the 
water carriers on a large scale. These have hogsheads mounted 
on wheels, and drawn by a horse. They go round the streets 
with a metallic pail on their heads. A loud noise is easily made 
with the iron bale. The small merchants have two pails, which 
they fill from the aqueducts at the coiners of the streets, and 
empty into the filters for a sous apiece ; no charge made for 
the mud deposited by their sabots on the entries and floors. 

An interesting man is he, who is met at every step, making 
known by loud cries, that he is a mar chand-d" 1 habit. A much 
more appropriate term is old-clothes-man. He buys and sells 
every article of dress. At night he carries the remains to the 
" Temple," where his wife patches them up, makes them as good 
as new, and sells them herself, while he is abroad seeking for 
more. One of them has just passed my window. Behind is an 
old lame woman bearing a long pole, from which silken cords 
are suspended. Not the cords of Hymen, ladies,- but equally 
near to your bosoms. They are stay-lacings. Immediately in 
the rear comes a porter, who, with a frame and basket, applied 
with straps to his shoulders, is lugging some four or five hundred 
pounds of wood and coal into the fifth story of the opposite 
house. How dexterously that young woman balances the basket, 
containing perhaps a gross of eggs, upon her head ! She threads 
her way through the crowd quite calmly. I'll watch and see 
how she will contrive to give the nod of recognition to her ac- 
quaintance, for she will not be lacking in politeness. So, she is 
gone — but here comes a woman with lamp shades. Mercy ! 
what a screeching ! 0, " cease rude Boreas !" To what base 
uses are the limbs of woman, by nature delicate, applied ! There 
is one, for example, coming yonder, bending under the weight 
of an omnibus wheel of the largest size ! Why, the women of 
9* 



150 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

my own country would not put their fingers to a spinning -wheel 
even, though they knew that they could thereby spin out a 
longer thread of life ; which would he the result, if they had the 
good sense to revive some of the obsolete habits of their grand- 
mothers. Besides, women are not made Venuses by idleness in 
America, any more than by excessive labor in France. 

At the corner of a street one sees a box, on the top of which 
is a raised block of the size of the foot, having about the same 
resemblance to that member in man, as the print did, which 
Robinson Crusoe discovered in the sand. That worthy, if I 
recollect aright, was so astonished at the curiosity, that he put 
his foot into it. It is altogether probable, when you notice this 
singular appearance in the street, that you will be tempted to 
follow his laudable example. If you should, the moment you 
place your foot upon the stand, you will find an astonishing 
brilliancy come over it, and what is more, that you have three 
sous to pay. 

Perhaps one of the most perfect luxuries yet discovered, is to 
be found at the operas and ball-rooms. Many a man prefers 
walking to these places to riding at twenty-five cents the trip. I 
shall not stop to account for a freak of taste ; de gustibus non. 
He does not, however, wish to enter with unpolished boots. And 
he need not, .but on the contrary, his embarrassment is converted 
into a novel source of positive pleasure. In a small room attach- 
ed to the establishment, he is directed to mount a step or two, 
place himself in a velvet-covered seat, and put his feet on two 
stands — a position of sweet repose — and a newspaper is then 
handed him to read. Two persons, one for each boot, soon oblit- 
erate the spots, and put him on an equal footing with those who 
have come in a vehicle. Thus he has escaped a perplexity, and 
enjoyed a Turkish luxury beside — this is a clear gain. The two 
females, who once performed this agreeable office for me, as I 
was giving to Madame, the proprietress of the brushes and black- 
ing, my gratuity of three sous, anxiously hoped, that I would not 
forget the gargon. Connected with this are the Cabinets d'aisance, 
equally cheap. 

In the United States, every body makes more or less bread. In 



BREAD. 151 



Paris, and, I believe in France generally, this devolves on the 
bakers entirely. Hot biscuits are unknown. Bread is of differ- 
ent qualities, and the price is fixed twice a month by the govern- 
ment. This depends on the price of grain, and is of course 
exceedingly variable. The regulation is undoubtedly introduced 
for the benefit of the poorer classes, that they may not be com- 
pelled by avaricious dealers to pay an exorbitant sum. Every 
baker in Paris is obliged to keep constantly deposited in the 
Grenier de Reserve twenty full sized sacks of flour. This store- 
house is of immense size, and was built by order of Napoleon to 
contain sufficient grain for four months' consumption of the city. 
In addition to this quantity, the bakers have frequently a good deal 
more deposited there, for the storage of which they pay a mod- 
erate charge. The cellars contain wine. This vast granary is 
much smaller than it was at first intended to be. The original 
plan of building it five stories high, beside the ground floor, was 
abandoned in 1816. Being then in an unfinished state — the 
ground floor only completed — it was roofed, and divided into three 
stories. It is two thousand one hundred and sixty feet long by 
sixty four wide, and thirty-two high. 

Bread is baked in loaves of two and four pounds, and also in 
the form of rolls for breakfast. It is of various degrees of con- 
sistence and character, but always good. The loaves have a pe- 
culiar shape. A two pound loaf is nearly two and a half feet 
long. The four pound loaf is twice this length, but doubled on 
itself. One eats by long measure — a foot and a half sufficing 
most for breakfast. A nobleman might require two of the large 
loaves, making a complete heroic metre ; while for the Royal 
Family, the needful Alexandrine must 



dras 



The loaves are placed upon a frame, similar to that which is used 
to transport wood, and borne on the backs of women to the reg- 
ular customers, where it is deposited in chairs, on the floor, like 
a cane in the corner, or elsewhere, as may be most convenient ; 
it being the general opinion that it cannot, by any possibility, be 



152 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

soiled. At meals, it is circulated from one to another, each cut- 
ting off a piece as large as may be desired. 

A class of inhabitants peculiar to Paris, as a distinct and nu- 
merous body, is the Chiffonier, or rag collector. It is composed 
of both sexes; their business, as their name imports, is the 
collection of small pieces of cloth, metal, and other matters, 
possessing the least value. The streets are swept every morning 
before six o'clock, and the citizens are prohibited from placing 
ashes, or any dirt, in them, between this hour and eight in the 
evening. The chiffonier collects his stores from this refuse ; it is, 
therefore, necessarily done in the night. His appearance is sin- 
gular. Clad in the dirtiest of dirty garments, with a basket on 
his back, and a lantern in his hand, he reminds me strongly of 
Diogenes seeking an honest man ; with the addition, however, of 
a basket to put him in, which the philosopher did not take, be^ 
cause he had no expectation of finding one. In the other hand 
he grasps a stick, equipped at its farther extremity with a crook- 
ed nail ; thus he wanders about the streets. He regards not 
the passers by. He never deviates from his path. In fact, he 
is a sort of prince, for all turn out for him. With downcast eyes, 
(not from humility, for however lowly his lot, he is not wanting 
in self-respect, and even pride,) he se'eks for hidden treasures 
Every heap of filth is a mine of unknown riches, which he is to 
open and work. He pokes it over with his stick, catches with 
his hook every piece of paper — it may be a bill of the Bank of 
France, he says — every rag, of however small dimensions, and 
tosses it over his shoulder. See him, now. He has found a 
prize in the heap just at the corner of the street, He picks it 
up, and rubs it on his coat sleeve, that he may the better observe 
its value. What is it ? From my window I cannot easily see, 
but I think it is an old broken trunk lock that I threw away this 
morning, or a fragment of a shovel. No matter — it is too valu- 
able to be contemptuously consigned to his basket ; so he slips 
it into a bag at his side — the receptacle of articles of worth. His 
business ending with the night, he retires to rest with the man of 
fashion at the break of dawn. His dreams, however, are not 



CHIFFONIER'S DREAM. 153 

disturbed by the indigestion of pates, or the fever of champagne, 
which trouble the young fashionable. 0, no ! He fancies himself 
the favorite of fortune, which has transmuted his trunk lock 
into a golden lantern, and his old shovel into a silver rag-hook. 
In his dream, he is transported, not to any voluptuous palace on 
the lake of Como, such as Claude Melnotte so beautifully de- 
scribes — far pleasanter visions soothe his slumber. Imagination 
takes him to the side of some extensive dirt heap, pregnant with 
the rich sweepings of a tailor's shop. 

I must, though with sorrow, leave this poetical picture for the 
humble walks of prose, though not forgetting, that from the 
stained contents of the chiffonier's basket comes the smooth 
billet, qui me prie de /aire Vhonneur de venir passer la soiree, 
where wit sparkles and beauty enchants. 

The receipts of this interesting personage amount to about 
twenty cents a day. Occasionally an article of real value is 
found, for which he rarely seeks the owner, preferring to pocket 
the entire proceeds, arising from its sale, to the small fraction 
thereof offered as a reward. Some days ago, a student in medi- 
cine, discovering one of this calling sitting on the trottoir with 
his face bound up, and evidently in pain, inquired the cause. 
He was answered very gruffly, that it was the tooth-ache, which 
occasioned this suspension of his labors. He told the man, that, 
if he would come to his apartments the next (Sunday) morning, 
he would extract it gratis. At the appointed hour a stranger 
was ushered in, clothed in a suit of black, a fresh- looking hat, 
gloves, and well polished boots, whom he did not once mistrust 
to be the crabbed chiffonier, whom he encountered the previous 
evening. It was, notwithstanding, the veritable man, who, when 
making an appointment that morning with another gentleman of 
his own class to visit the Louvre, and inspect the new paintings, 
placed there recently, observed, that he had a previous engage- 
ment with his dentist. 

The stranger, especially if he has lived where mad dogs are 
in vogue, and the race is heavily taxed, is astonished at their fre- 
quency in this capital. Paris contains more puppies, reckoning 
all descriptions, than any other city, perhaps, in the world. Every 



154 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

body has a dog of some kind. The fashionable lady rarely walks, 
or rides abroad, without her favorite to accompany her. The rich 
have a leveret, a small animal of the greyhound species, origina- 
ting in Italy. The poor have such as they can get. I have 
seen several, that equalled in size the ponies of Gen. Tom Pouce, 
the distinguished representative of American dignity at the foreign 
courts, who is reported to be kissed so much by this kissible and 
kissing nation, as to be compelled to protect his cheeks and 
lips with a mask of goldbeater's skin, graciously sent him by 
her Majesty Queen Victoria. This mark of her anxious inter- 
est in the health of this renowned warrior is the more valuable, 
since, according to rumor, it has been shown at the expense of 
incurring the jealousy of the hero of Waterloo. I trust, that no 
one will imagine by the accidental mention of this distinguished 
Yankee, in connection with puppydom, that I dream of class- 
ifying him with these pets. Certainly not. Private opinions 
must yield to circumstances. That which, at home, I might 
incline to censure, is here, with ardent nationality, upheld and 
praised. In Paris, every American pronounces Gen. Jackson a 
hero, greater in every respect than Napoleon, or any other per- 
son who ever lived. If they say any thing regarding cotton bags, 
we immediately retort, that he differs but little from the French 
themselves — that if he used breast-works, French women do the 
same — the difference being, that he fought behind them, whereas 
they surrender — " at discretion." No ; Tyler is a man of probity 
and consistency ; Bobby, the greatest living poet, not excepting 
Prince Albert himself; and Polk a Cincinnatus, called from the 
plough-tail, to tell a tale to old Europe, now in her second child- 
hood, which makes all its members tremble. We insist, and 
satisfactorily prove too, that the republic is our mother country : 
for within three months, she has brought into the world two 
states at a birth, and is already far gone with two more. 

But revenons a nos moutons — the phrase is good, since dogs 
are frequently served up for muttons. These dogs are generally 
muffled, when large, and all are confined by a cord around the 
neck, which, as one is walking, is often also found around his 
legs. If a man wishes to insult another, or wreak his spite 



DOGS AND DOGGEREL. 155 

against him, he kicks his dog. If you desire to speak to a pretty- 
woman, whom you do not know, stumble over the dog, attempt 
to soothe his barking, take off yourhat, bow three times to 
the snarling, ugly brute, and the heart of the lady is won. Wind 
the cord adroitly around your legs — do it quickly, while she is 
gazing at the goods in the shop window — and you can be as 
long as you desire in " getting out of the scrape." If he quarrels 
with another dog, and is thrown down into the gutter, take him 
up carefully — never mind the white ' kids— and wipe him with 
your cambric. This last was never known to fail. " Love me, 
love my dog," is of French origin. This is part of what is 
called the dog exercise, and is almost as curious an art, as that 
of the fan in Madrid. Poets may talk of the beauty of women, 
when " floating in the mazes of the giddy waltz," or at the do- 
mestic fireside darning stockings, the dear creatures never appear 
so interesting, as when exhibiting the sublime virtues of " pati- 
ence, loving-kindness, and tender mercy," while they stand 
awaiting the pleasure of this sweet animal busily occupied at the 
the side of a house, or by a lamp-post. 

The end of the sheet admonishes me to conclude this doggerel 
description of some of the peculiarities of Parisians and their 
habits. In a future letter I may resume the thread of my narra- 
tive, unless you find the subjects are already worn thread-bare. 



XXVI. 

Hospital La Oharite — Gerdy — Andral — Rayer — Cruveilhier— Fou- 
quier bouillard course of medical study in paris and ameri- 
CA compared — Importance of a special attention to a single 
Branch — Difficulties of American Physicians — The French and 
American Practitioner contrasted — American Students at Paris. 

When speaking of Velpeau in a former letter, I incidentally 
mentioned the hospital La Charite. This is one of the most im- 
portant of these institutions, and at the same time one of the old- 
est. This its time-worn and dilapidated appearance fully attest. 
The same renovating hand, which is employed on many of the 
other public buildings, is also engaged in re- constructing and mod- 
ifying this. There is little in its history worthy of mention, 
except that it was founded by Marie de Medicis, in 1613, for a 
community of Monks, who discharged the double duties of physi- 
cians and priests. It contains 530 beds, which are appropriated 
to all sorts of disease, the class of patients differing not much 
from those received at the Hotel-Dieu. Mons. Gerdy assists 
Velpeau in the care of the surgical patients. Being wholly in- 
dependent of his profession, he is not obliged to seek for prac- 
tice, which perhaps he might not obtain, if hfc did ; his bluff, sar- 
castic manners creating many enemies. His personal appearance 
is not more prepossessing. His continually contracted forehead, 
and heavy, lowering eye-brows, add not to the beauty of a dark- 
skinned, hard-featured countenance. As a writer, he occupies a 
fair position, possessing the merit of good arrangement and per- 
spicuity. His judgment, one would be apt to consider faulty, 
had he witnessed some operations lately performed by him, which 
many present considered not only useless, but as hurrying his 
patients out of the world. The physicians are Andral, Rayer, 

156 



BOUILLARD.— RAYER. 157 



Cruveilhier, Fouquier, and Bouillard. The first three are well 
known in the United States by their numerous works, which have 
been there translated. 

Without exception, these same three gentlemen are much less 
followed in the wards, than the other two. Fouquier is the pri- 
vate physician of the King, and his class is much the largest. 
This is very much owing to his gentlemanly manners, in addition 
to his acuteness in detecting the nature of disease. His grey 
hairs, or rather white locks, have brought wisdom with them. 
Mons. Bouillard, in personal appearance, resembles Benjamin 
Pierce, the distinguished mathematician of Cambridge Univer- 
sity. When I saw him first, I was struck with the similitude, 
and followed him, from curiosity to ascertain, if their intellectual 
developments corresponded. Although pursuing a different 
branch of science, I found that Bouillard was not deficient in the 
good judgment, fine reasoning, and correct deduction, which 
distinguish so highly my old instructor in mathematics. His 
bedside remarks are exceedingly interesting and improving, and 
I strongly urge every student to follow him. His number of 
pupils, not being so large as many of the other general physi- 
cians, enables one to see the patient, and sometimes to examine 
the disease in person. Mons. Bayer, author of a work on the 
diseases of the skin, with his lofty, bulky person, will clear his 
own way in the world. He needs no trumpeter. The stentorian 
voice, with which he interrogates his patients, and prescribes for 
their wants, will speak for him, and will leave a record of him- 
self, ringing in the ears of the poor sick, which will perpetuate 
his memory to^me end of their lives. 

The method of studying medicine in Paris is very different 
from that pursued in America. In some respects it is better, and 
inferior in others. There is none, or next to none, of what is 
called office study ; and indeed very little study of books any- 
where. Many students finish their entire course with scarcely 
ever having looked at a medical work. The cost is also far less, 
and the opportunity for deception in regard to the time em- 
ployed, almost impossible. In the United States, a certificate of 



S58 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

three years' study is not unfrequently obtained, by a novitiate, 
for a few dollars. No such certificates are here required. The 
Government regulates that matter most admirably. Each stu- 
dent is required to inscribe his name with the secretary, and his 
time commences at that period. During his term of four years, 
he is obliged to pass five examinations, and to pay a small sum 
to the Government, I think about ten dollars for each, the whole 
expenses for four years' study and degree, being nearly two hun- 
dred dollars. Every branch of study has a particular examination. 
The student previously applies himself solely to this, and without 
difficulty, of course, can make himself master of it. In the 
United States, on the contrary, there is but one examination, and 
that at the end of three years' study in every branch at the same 
time. The preparation for this is extremely difficult. The over- 
loaded brain is distracted with the vain attempt to recall the 
minutiae of every department of the science. 

This reminds me of an advantage, which is not connected with 
the study, so much as the practice of medicine and surgery in 
the large cities of Europe, suggesting one reason why the Euro- 
pean physicians are more profound scholars than the American. 
It is because the immense number of the inhabitants of their 
cities allows the study and practice of specialties. The science 
of medicine is so very comprehensive, as to prohibit one from 
understanding the whole of it perfectly in all its branches and 
details. The possibility of taking one branch, that to which the 
taste of the man is most disposed, and pursuing this to the com- 
parative neglect of the others, allows an approach to perfection in 
it. Do you ask, why Roux and Velpeau and Lisfranc are such 
distinguished surgeons ? Why Dubois is the first accoucheur in 
Paris ? Why Louis and Chomel and Fouquier are at the head 
of the physicians ? The answer is easy. They have each taken 
one branch and pursued it, aiming at perfection and attaining an 
approximation to it. Look at the poor man in America, at the 
same time, physician, surgeon, accoucheur, attempting to be 
skilful in operations on the eyes and ears, percussion and auscul- 
tation, the diseases of women and infants. The intellect of a 



STUDY OF MEDICINE IN PARIS. 159 

Solomon is not sufficiently comprehensive to grasp the whole 
circle, even with the years of Methuselah. How much less an 
inferior mind and a feeble memory ! 

Arguing- in this manner, I have assumed myself, according to 
my own taste and powers, a special branch of study, and have 
striven to avail myself of all that France can furnish on that par- 
ticular subject ; I trust not without some success. Whether the 
new world will give encouragement to such a procedure, time 
will determine. Be it remembered, that no man can attain to 
great knowledge on one division with ignorance upon the others. 
The whole science of medicine and surgery is so intimately 
woven together, that he, who is not well versed in the principles 
of each branch, must necessarily be deficient in some fundamental 
and all-important particular in his own specialty. The study of 
a specialty does not therefore imply a less degree of information ; 
on the contrary, it requires more, far more, But I am wander- 
ing far from the subject that I commenced. Pardon this digres- 
sion. 

Although there is but little book study, it does not follow, that 
there is less real attention paid. There is more practical infor- 
mation obtained, than by the office student of the United States. 
The knowledge is obtained at the bedside on the morning visit 
to the hospitals of the first physicians of the country. The clin- 
ique upon the cases, points out to the student the peculiarities 
of the disease, the resemblances it has to others, its cause, 
probable termination, and treatment. These are very often 
written down, and many thus make for themselves manuscript 
books of theory, comprising information derived from the very 
highest sources. This is far better than a treatise on the subject, 
inasmuch as the stndent can compare his own observation of the 
disease with the opinion and description of one, whose judgment 
he esteems and venerates. However imperfect may be his notes, 
having seen the patient himself, his ideas of the disease are much 
clearer than any description, minute and perfect though it may 
be, of the same disease, which he had not actually seen. The 
man who has read an ever so good delineation of Swiss scenery, 
has an idea, more or less vague, of its extent, color, beauty and 



160 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

grandeur. But the traveler, who has seen himself these majes- 
tic peaks, though half obscured with clouds, and with eyes al- 
most blinded with falling snow or chilling winds, when rending, 
after the lapse of many years, his own imperfect notes, written 
with benumbed fingers by the dim light of a cottage fire, and 
half asleep, has a far more vivid conception of that splendid 
panorama. This imperfect simile but faintly illustrates, how lit- 
tle the uneducated student observes even of the prominent char- 
acteristics of disease. Yet this little is worth more than whole 
pages of description. Would that the American physician were 
adequately encouraged in his toil ! Some few are, it is true, but 
ah ! how many, after years consumed at college in laying a basis, 
and years more afterwards in building the superstructure, live 
but to see some ignorant blacksmith rolling in wealth, derived 
from the sale of a nostrum ! Yes, so long as the world seizes 
with such eagerness every new pill, which professes to raise the 
dead ; as long as homoeopathy, magnetism, hydropathy, " laces," 
are in vogue ; so long as the laws of the country suffer quacks 
and charlatans of every description to live in a state of piracy 
against the world, robbing and killing all, who come in their way, 
or are allured by a false flag ; so long as these ignoramuses, or 
something worse, are sustained, and allowed to collect their ex- 
orbitant exactions for poisons sold under the protection and by 
the help of the law's strong arm— while these exist, it cannot be 
expected, that American physicians will devote their energies to 
such an extent, as to rival the French in their attainments, who 
are not protected merely, but spurred on, and animated, by the 
" powers that be." 

Apart from this, the American physician, with all the good 
will he may enjoy, labors under insuperable embarrassments, 
which, in the present condition of the social state, it is impossible 
to surmount. Theory is excellent, and not only excellent, but 
necessary. Still, without practice, it is nothing. This is the rea- 
son, why the young physician is inferior to the old, though his 
head is stuffed with book information to the crown of his hat. 
The hospital is the place for supplying this deficiency. But the 
small institutions of the United States are greatly inferior to the 



FRENCH AND AMERICAN DOCTORS. 161 

Parisian, not only in their numbers, but in the character of the 
people who resort to them, and the difference of their respective 
sensibilities. This inferiority, which attaches to the American, as 
a patient, exalts him however as a human being. In the United 
States it is not the poor and miserable generally, who come thith- 
er ; such as have not, and never had a penny in their purses. 
But it is those, who have the ability to pay three dollars a week 
for their board. Such persons say, they are willing to describe 
their complaints, show their tongues, and allow their pulses to 
be felt by the physicians, but not by twenty or thirty inquisitive, 
ignorant students. " I pay my board, and do not wish my pri- 
vacy to be intruded on." For three years I was living in differ- 
ent hospitals of the United States, and well know the feeling 
which prevails. The women of America of the lowest classes, 
even those whose lives, one would suppose, must have extin- 
guished this feeling entirely, have a delicacy and repugnance, 
quite unknown to any class of Parisians. Their description of 
many diseases is imperfect, and many prefer even death itself to 
allowing a physician worthy of confidence to examine ocularly 
the nature of their malady. The French woman, on the con- 
trary, knows nothing at all of this queasy sensibility. She has 
no hesitation, not only to describe, but to permit her physician to 
see every complaint. This is particularly to be observed at the 
midwifery hospitals, a description of which I reserve for another 
letter. In this respect, therefore, the Paris educated physician 
enjoys superior advantages to the homebred man. 

Every patient who enters a hospital is, in a certain degree, 
Government property, and, not only through life, but even after 
death, is subject, in some sense, to the control of the physician. 
Thus science is benefited by the post-mortem examination, 
which is made of every disease that is marked with anything 
peculiar, whether objected to by friends, or not. Among Ameri- 
can citizens, extraordinary horror is felt on this subject, and great 
opposition made by the friends of a deceased person to such 
an examination. Fortunately this squeamishness is every year 
less strong, and gradually wearing away. The community are 
10 



162 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

beginning to see the advantages flowing from an inquisition after 
death, not only as it concerns the physician, but because it sheds 
light on the peculiar constitution of a family. This knowledge 
serves to put the descendants on their guard against the special 
causes, which may excite the latent germ of a similar complaint, 
that may be slumbering in their systems; or, what is equally 
needed, to dispel fears, and quiet apprehensions, which, if al- 
lowed to be cherished, might of themselves awaken the very evils 
that were apprehended. 

The hospitals furnish so large a supply of subjects, that the 
chirurgeon has the facilities to make himself perfectly familiar 
with surgery and operative anatomy. 

These are the advantages, not trivial, which the Paris School 
affords ; but it is not without its defects and disadvantages. Hav- 
ing such opportunities to witness diseases in all their forms and 
modifications, and such facilities after death of ascertaining the 
correctness of their conjectures, the medical body in this country 
generally have fallen into an error, and a serious one. They 
have directed their attention and energies to discovering the na- 
ture of disease, and that at the expense of the treatment. The 
English and American have equally erred upon the opposite side. 
They have directed their zeal to the treatment, neglecting the di- 
agnosis. To any reasonable person it must be apparent, that to 
discover the character of the disease, without knowing how to 
treat it is useless ; and also that treating a patient without know- 
ing what the malady is, is a kind of charlatanry. It is a combin- 
ation of the two acquisitions which makes the accomplished 
practitioner. This is not to be attained by any one who allows 
himself to become a partizan of either school. Indeed, the ad- 
vice which the celebrated Marshal Hall, the most distinguished 
physician of London, and perhaps of England, gave to a coun- 
tryman of mine, is full of sound sense, and shows that the opin- 
ion, which I have advanced, is that of the highest authorities in 
medical topics. " Go to France, to Paris," said he, " and study 
diagnosis, and then come back to England and learn practice." 
This is the advice that all candid men of real information will give. 



AMERICAN STUDENTS IN PARIS. 163 

Indeed, the names of fifty American physicians, which I have, 
who are here for the purpose of perfecting themselves in their 
science, coming from every State almost in the Union, is conclu- 
sive evidence of American opinion. Those who imagine that the 
obtaining of a degree denotes the end of study, of course will 
say that it is useless ; but those who consider that they have 
then but entered the threshold only, will look upon it in a far 
different light. 

These fifty young Americans may be seen wherever anything, 
which appertains to the science, is to be learned. The best seats 
in Velpeau's amphitheatre have the name of American seats, as 
they are always filled by the Yankees, who have gone and occu- 
pied them long before the lecture commences, in order to secure 
them. The skilful and intelligent instructors, who have what are 
called "private courses," are mainly paid by Americans, whose 
generally short stay prevents their attending to the courses given 
by the faculty, as they are extended through too great a length 
of time; some of them indeed last several years. From sunrise 
to sunset, literally speaking, they are engaged in the close and ar- 
duous study of their profession. The evening recreations of operas 
and visits, are very often given up, to continue their scientific pur- 
suits. Where they have studied one hour in America, they study 
two here. The few hours that are given for recreation, are no 
more than exhausted nature, and the fatigued brain, demand. 

The physicians of the hospitals give the American superior ad- 
vantages to other students, even to their own. They reason upon 
this principle, The " United States is more than three thousand 
miles distant. These young men have come this great distance 
to a country, whose manners, customs, and language are differ- 
ent from their own. They visit us at a great expense. Why 
have they put themselves to such peril and inconvenience, placed 
themselves in such a disagreeable position, often without the 
power of speaking and comprehending in a foreign country ; 
and subjected themselves to the necessity of expending so largely 
for their indispensable wants ? It is because they are resolved to 
investigate the science, which they have commenced, under the 



164 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

best advantages, and to make themselves thorough masters of it. 
I will second such devotion. The doors of my hospital shall be 
open to them, and they shall have encouragement in prosecuting 
their investigations." The standing of those who have been 
here before us, warrant such a belief, and such conduct on their 
part. May the future show, that the present generation have 
not " fallen from their high estate," and are not inferior to their 
predecessors. 



XXVII. 

Celebration of the King's Birth-day. 

The tumult is over ; the hubbub has ceased ; the last rocket 
has long since exploded ; the falling rain has undoubtedly ex- 
tinguished the only remaining lamp, which illuminated the gar- 
dens, and the populace have returned to their labor. In short, 
the Fete de Roi, the anniversary of the birth of Louis Philippe is 
past. Like the calm that succeeds the storm, an unusual still- 
ness reigns throughout the city. This very natural effect is no 
doubt deepened by the gloomy weather, which has followed, as 
a shadow, the brilliant sunshine, which yesterday shone so pro- 
pitiously. 

The fetes in France are more quiet and orderly than formerly. 
The disorder of preceding years is attributable to the fact, that 
food of various kinds, and wine, used to be served to the public 
by the king. Hogsheads of the latter were placed in the public 
squares, with dippers attached, and any one who was athirst, 
might go, and drink as much, and as often as he desired. At 
the coronation of Napoleon, it is related, that the Fountain of the 
Innocents, in one of the market places, ran wine throughout the 
day. Such freedom could not but be abused, and excess with 
all the natural consequences, was universal. Louis Philippe, 
seeing the hazardous results, wisely put a stop to the practice. 
Provisions, no longer distributed promiscuously, are given to the 
poor at their rooms. The effects of this are very evident. Now, 
even on the days of fetes, a person intoxicated is rarely seen. 
Drunkenness, indeed, is not near so common, as in any of the 
cities of the United States, even where the teetotal societies are 
prevalent. Those societies are not known here. Everybody 

165 



166 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

drinks, not only their light wines, but brandies and stronger 
liquors, and usually with discretion. 

Deputations from all classes of people waited yesterday upon 
the king to wish him health and happiness, and many joyous re- 
turns of this his natal day. Fetes are not for the rich and 
powerful, but the poor ; we will therefore leave the palace 
behind us, and accompany the crowd to the great square of the 
Champs Elysees. The way conducts us through the gardens of 
the Tuilleries, and as the immense multitude obstruct rapid loco- 
motion, we linger beside the basins of water, and admire the jet, 
which glitters in the sunbeams, the numerous gold and silver fish 
which sport in the ripples, and the merry faces of the children, 
who stand around, feeding the pretty sparkling finny creatures 
with bread and cake crumbs. When fatigued with this, we turn 
to another scene, where the graceful swan floats lightly, as a snow- 
flake on the blue water, arching his long neck to collect the dona- 
tions cast to him. Before us a most magnificent prospect opens. 
Round us, and before us, far as the eye can reach, a double row 
of trees line the long avenue ; — the elm with pendent limbs, and 
the horse-chestnut, now in the pride of its beauty. By constant 
pruning and attention, their symmetry is rendered perfect. The 
branches, which, when bare and leafless in winter, have such an 
air of prudery, now clothed in gay attire, and adorned with their 
finely contrasted blossoms, present a rare object of elegance. 
At the extremity of this grand avenue, two or three miles before 
us, relieved by a back ground of remote blue hills, stands the 
pride of art, the proud Arc de Triomphe de VMoile, one hundred 
and fifty-two feet in height, seeming even at this distance, still 
more immense. Nearer to us, surrounded by golden lamps, rises 
the obelisk of Luxor, appearing to pierce the great arch of the 
Arc de Triomphe. The remainder of the way to the great porte 
of the palace is embellished by a host of marble statues of great 
value. It is the sight of such beauties and objects of splendid 
luxury, as these, which surround and grace the palaces of mon- 
archs, that can alone awaken in my bosom any love for royalty. 

But, while we loiter here, the amusements of the day are com- 
mencing. In the Place Concorde, the tritons and sea-nymphs — 



7 if 







• ^:f 



1 fl 1 ^ :! 



AMUSEMENTS. 167 



altogether too handsome for fishwomen — still hold fast their 
bronze dolphins, from whose mouths a jet of water is thrown 
into a basin above, to fall again into a thousand pellucid sparkles 
below. Not all of it, however, thus escapes. Not a little 
goes to fill the tin vessels borne about upon the backs of many a 
man and woman, which, half-boiled by the sun, and sweetened 
with radix glycyrrluzae, or liquorice root, is drunk by any one 
that chooses — not I — for a sou the glass. A little bell, inces- 
santly tinkling, like that borne on the neck of a grazing cow, 
keeps you perpetually aware of the presence of these sweet itin- 
erant pedlars. This is the best proof I have at command, of 
the fact, that the French are a liquorish people. 

As we proceed up the Champs Elysees, the crowd increasing at 
every step, we find its sides lined with booths of every descrip- 
tion. Here one plays rouge et noir for macaroons, or swings a 
ring suspended from a cross tree, ten feet perhaps in height, at- 
tempting to catch it on some hooks placed in front ; his suc- 
cess is to be rewarded in the same coin, differing in amount from 
the number placed upon the hook. If fond of sporting, take 
a gun, whose crooked barrel one would imagine was intended to 
shoot around a corner, and fire little rockets at a bird, hanging 
from the top of a pole twenty feet high. If of a warlike, de- 
structive disposition, near at hand is a stuffed man with a wood- 
en heart ; hit it, if you can, at three feet distance, with a pop- 
gun crossbow. If you are not content with an exhibition of your 
skill, without doing any damage, advance to the next. The scene 
before you represents, in a moment, an army of Moors, each man 
a foot distant from his neighbor. " Pick off the officers " was 
Gen. Putnam's order at the battle of Bunker Hill ; so you aim at 
the captain. Ah ! you have knocked him over, and in his fall he 
touched a spring, and out runs an old woman with a long red 
nose, and a pail in her hand. Kill the corporal, and another 
rushes into the scene, mounted on a pig, whose tail looks as if it 
had not yet done curling, to such an intensity is it twisted. When 
you have thus done it effectually for Abd- el Kader and all the hos- 
tile Arabs in Africa, behold no dead are to be found. The attend- 
ant woman sets them up, and they are quite as sound again as 



168 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

ever. Like many other warriors, victorious without results, let 
us go to the next, where the damage we may do, cannot be so 
easily repaired. Rough and fragile images of crockery are here, 
pieces of glass with figures painted on them. Now give the or- 
gan of destructiveness the rein. The fragments jingle as they 
fall into the basket below. Isn't it delicious ? And all for two 
or three sous ; a good investment. Novelties thicken, as we pro- 
ceed .What keeps them laughing so perpetually in this quarter ? 
Why, at one extremity of the circle, perhaps I should say, one of 
the foci of the ellipse, there is a post, to which a tin pot is attach- 
ed. At the other focus fifteen feet off, we see a young man give 
a sou to the proprietor, who in return presents him with a stick. 
He places on the youth's head, concealing it entirely, a horrid 
looking mask, the eyes of which look crosswise. With this he 
can see nothing. Confident of success, where so many others 
have failed, he advances, thus blindfolded, to strike the pot with 
his cane. He proceeds very cautiously in a direct line, as he 
supposes, but following, as the bystanders well know, each eye 
of his mask by turns, till getting near the object by his computa- 
tion, with deliberate care he deals the blow, which he is confident 
will make the old pot ring like a church bell. But the only sound 
which reaches his ear, is the universal merriment of all around. 
The mask is removed, and he is astonished to perceive that he has 
" missed the wrong house " by a long distance. Notwithstand- 
ing the shortness of the space, and the apparent ease of the per- 
formance, I saw but one hit the pot, among several essays made 
during my stay. Do you wish to know your temperament ? A man 
is ready to give you the information with a hand thermometer. 
This has two glass globes united by a hollow tube, and filled with 
spirits of wine. The warmth of . the hand causes the fluid to run 
from one ball to the other, and the height to which it ascends, indi- 
cates the temperament. Changing hands, he counts in a loud 
voice, five, ten, fifteen, twenty, as long as the liquid rises, and 
this shows the degree. Men are content to spend five sous in 
order to learn that they are ten degrees of " sanguinity " or some- 
thing else. 
Arrived, at length, at the Grand Square, maugre the innu- 



SHAM FIGHTS. 169 



merable obstacles, which impede, or attractions, that divert ; in 
the midst of an ocean of heads in constant motion to catch a 
glimpse, but always interposing before, behind, around, every- 
where, one may possibly succeed in seeing the stage of one of 
the temporary theatres, erected only for the day. In these are 
enacted battles, fights, and other diverting pastimes ; guns and 
cannon are fired ; drums beaten ; prisoners are taken and miracu- 
lously escape, and the French come out always victorious, the 
enemy retiring in a laudable and regular manner, after discharg- 
ing their muskets at, and dangerously frightening sundry peacea- 
ble and thoughtless crows, which are innocently flying over the 
unroofed stage. The spectators are very numerous — and very 
quiet — when they can see — but, when the view is obstructed by 
any one taller than themselves, they are easily amused by throw- 
ing small stones at his hat, and often with an accuracy not alto- 
gether pleasant to the wearer. Short people are decidedly be- 
low par in such a place. I did not see the stage perfectly but 
twice, once when lifted from the ground by the pressure of the 
crowd, and thus elevated above the world. But I could not turn 
my good fortune to much account, for unfortunately my atten- 
tion was very much distracted by the instant necessity of invent- 
ing some new method of breathing, as my chest was so wedged 
in and compressed, that the old one would not answer. My hat 
too, obstructing the prospect of those behind, was vigorously sa- 
luted with a copious shower of the aforesaid gravel. The second 
time, just at the climax, when the savage Bedouin was about to 
destroy his captive, a French girl of birth, I felt a hand at my 
coat pocket. The fellow was disappointed, however, for previous 
to leaving home, I took the precaution to leave there watch, 
pocket book, and every thing else of value. But the incident 
drew off my observation of the stage, and, after all, I have there- 
fore lost the pleasure of informing you, what became of the beau- 
tiful heroine. 

In the centre of this place was erected the mat de Cocagne. 
This is a pole of as great a length as can be obtained, and perfect- 
ly straight, resembling in this respect the lofty hickory and ash 
poles, planted during the late election throughout the United 
10* 



170 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

States. This is entirely denuded of bark and branches, and 
made as smooth as possible. To render it still more slippery, it 
is plentifully besmeared with soft soap and other unctuous mat- 
ters. To the top of this a large wreath is drawn up, to which is 
attached prizes of various sorts. On this occasion there were a 
gold watch, a cup of silver, a convert, or silver fork and spoon, 
and a silver mounted pipe. The first ascension is the only diffi- 
cult one ; those coming afterwards mount with comparative facil- 
ity. The first essay was made by an athletic man, who stripped 
himself almost to the state of nature ; entirely, save a piece of 
cloth around his loins. He carried with him, suspended on each 
side, a bag filled with a kind of powder, or dust, with which he 
covered the slippery pole, as far up as he could reach. Then 
hitching up as far as he had dusted, he held by his feet and one 
hand, while with the other he renewed his anti-lubricating pro- 
cess. He ascended not more than fifteen feet, when his bags 
were exhausted ; and, casting a longing look at the glittering 
prizes far above, he slid down again. The second climbed some 
thirty feet, when his strength was exhausted, and his ammunition 
failing, and, projecting also a Fox-and- Grapes-Tantalus-looking 
regard at all that was dear, he too " declined the honor." The 
third was a dexterous climber, and was also fortified by a double 
supply of the " all in all," without whicfr it would be as vain to 
think of rising, as to get up in the world without that other yel- 
low dust, called gold. His cap too, served to wipe the path be- 
fore him. After a struggle of nearly half an hour, he attained 
the summit, seized the flag placed there, exultingly waved it 
round his head, helped himself to the gold watch, and descended 
very quickly. The track once prepared, it was easy to follow ; so 
the other prizes were taken without difficulty, and on that account 
were of far inferior value. This sport attracted a large crowd, 
who divided their regards between it, and the neighboring thea- 
tres. A young American physician, extremely agile and muscu- 
lar, who now resides in Boston, is said to have gained this prize 
some years ago. This is a real example of genius overcoming 
difficulties, and of talent elevated above the crowd. 

After the accomplishment of this exploit, another scene soon 



QUACK DOCTOR. 171 



opened upon us of the grand comedy of the day. "Wandering 
about, I accidentally came in among a throng, surrounding a 
flashy four-wheeled vehicle, of a form peculiar to France, and 
drawn by two horses. On the front stood a man, engaged in 
haranguing the multitude. His appearance was very remarkable. 
He was tricked out in a strange style. His pantaloons were of 
black velvet, with a waistcoat of blue cloth, having tight' sleeves. 
His coat was of green velvet, with large flowing sleeves, shorter 
above than below, where they hung, coming to a point, and ex- 
posing the blue sleeves of the waistcoat underneath. All his 
clothes were decorated with a profusion of gold lace. By his 
sides were watches — two on each — with other jewelry. His 
head was surmounted by a crimson velvet cap, encircled with a 
gold lace band with a long flowing silk tassel depending from the 
top, which he frequently removed, thereby exposing a bald head. 
What hair he had was gray, and so was his beard, which was cut 
close except on the chin, and under the jaw, and this was left 
some six inches long. On his nose he wore a large pair of spec- 
tacles, whose immense glasses were intended to intimate research, 
and, in connection with his venerable beard and gray hairs, wis- 
dom. From the first expression which struck my ear, I thought 
he was a democrat. He was proclaiming himself a friend of the 
working class, and professing to be a worker himself ; but he ex- 
plained by stating that he was that moment at work — addressing 
the people. As he advanced in his oration, he put me more and 
more in doubt about his object. He came at last to inform us 
that he was a Portuguese, (he spoke without a perceptible ac- 
cent) that France contained many charlatans of all kinds, that 
even his native city, Lisbon, harbored them, but that he was a 
truly educated man, that he was versed in the noble science of 
medicine, and could cure diseases in an incredibly short space of 
time, especially those of the muscular system ; and finally re- 
quested such as were afflicted to come upon the carriage, and he 
would examine their complaints before the multitude. Immedi- 
ately a young man of respectable appearance jumped up, stripped 
off his coat, rolled up his sleeve, and exhibited his arm, which he 
declared to be the seat of much pain. Our hero turned his head, 



172 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

and nodded to some men seated behind him on the top of the 
vehicle. Then I noticed, that these four fantastically dressed 
individuals were musicians, who immediately began a tune with 
horns, clarionet, trumpet, drum and cymbals, completely drowning 
the sage questions asked by the learned man. After a suitable 
lapse of time he rang a little bell by his side, and the music ceas- 
ing, he announced that the patient had a species of rheumatism. 
He had, however, a never-failing specific for it, an unguent of 
great power, which was always sure to cure in twenty-four hours. 
Again he turned and winked, after remarking that he would show 
the method of its proper application. I involuntarily rubbed my 
eyes, for I began to suspect that I was at a theatre, and that one 
of the ludicrous comedies of Moliere was being acted, where tail- 
ors tried on coats, countrymen learned wisdom and manners, 
physicians felt the pulse, and nurses gave lavements, all to the 
sound of martial music ; for, as the sage rubbed the grease in 
the arm, his movements were in unison with the slow-measured 
notes of the artists behind ; and when the tune changed to a 
polka, he continued the friction with a polka rhythm. The scene 
was inexpressibly ludicrous. So this " learned Jenkinson " of the 
inimitable Yicar went on prescribing for numerous complaints, 
feigned by an accomplice, which were all to be well in twenty- 
four hours after his treatment. Any number of boxes of similar 
medicines were constantly on hand ; but, from their peculiar effi- 
cacy, the price was of course necessarily very high. 

Before the Pavilion des Horloge was erected a stage, covered 
with crimson velvet, where, at seven and a half, p. m., by forcing 
through a crowd of artisans in dirty blouses, smelling vehement- 
ly of cheese and garlic, one could hear a band play the Mar- 
seillaise or the Parissienne, and, by walking towards the Seine, 
have a view, in one of the upper stories of the palace, of the 
Indians from Oregon now visiting here with Mr. Catlin. By 
order of the King, they had been placed in the vacant apart- 
ments of one of the absent princes, commanding a view of the 
gardens, the quai de Tuilleries, the Pont Royal, and the im- 
mense assemblage that thronged every avenue in this quarter. 
From this point, also, a favorable view of the fireworks was to be 



FEUX D'ARTIFICE. 173 



had. The adjoining room was deVoted to the accommodation of 
Gen. Tom Thumb. It was amusing to hear the speculations of 
the multitude in regard to these red skins, who, in all the pride 
and pomp of paint and feathers, were very conspicuous at the 
windows, and arrested the gaping notice of vast numbers. The 
lower classes of the community are as ignorant of geography, as 
the aborigines of America, when discovered by Columbus. One 
imagined they were Patagonians ; another surmised that they 
were Chinese ; a third Egyptians, and, when informed they were 
from the backwoods of the United States, from Oregon, they in- 
nocently replied, that " they thought all the Africans were black." 
As the shades of night descended, the lamps, arranged in 
triangular groups of thirty-six on lofty stands, and placed at in- 
tervals of forty feet perhaps along the green fringed walks, were 
lighted up. This exhibition, extending even to the Arc de F Etoile, 
and to every little avenue around, was almost magical. At such 
a moment it was easy to have any quantity of poetical imaginings 
of diamonds and such like, that could be wished. Poetry is a de- 
scription of fancy. This is the reason, as I take it, why calling 
red hair, golden : oil lamp lights, diamonds ; and talking of silver 
moon and pearly teeth, is being poetical. To those who live in 
the garret, gold and silver, diamonds and pearls, exist but in the 
imagination. When the twilight had entirely melted away, there 
commenced from the Quai d'Orsay a shower of rockets, which 
with their bright light of various colors illuminated all around. 
Being of large size, the noise of their explosion was very great, 
as they burst high in the air, pouring a deluge of brilliant spar- 
kles on every side. At the moment, when the first rocket shot 
up, commenced the discharge of the great guns at the battlements 
surrounding the Hotel des Invalides. Had this captive Prussian 
and Austrian ordnance been as faithfully served in times gone by, 
as they were this evening, they might have changed the destinies 
of nations, and not been left, as now, to illustrate the prowess of 
French arms. At every report, I beheld in imagination the vet- 
erans, who now served them, at the battles of Lodi and Wagram 
and Austerlitz, their hearts burning with a fire scarcely less ve- 
hement than the flame which consumed their powder. Those 



174 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

heroes, who then protected the body of the Great "Warrior, now, 
surround and guard his mouldering ashes. 

Near this quai, high in the air was a beautiful cross of varie- 
gated lamps of large size, which was the object of universal ad- 
miration. On the Pont de la Concorde rose two lofty monuments 
of fire, while from their base flashed Roman Candles and flames 
of every description. For half an hour an unbroken succession 
of rockets, wheels and other productions of pyrotechny were play- 
ed off without the least intermission. No delay in the prepara- 
tion of the pieces fatigued the spectator, and there was no 
parsimonious apprehension of burning too many at a time. The 
air was in a continual blaze with sheets of fire in inexhaustible 
profusion. The final piece was an immense bouquet, extending 
the entire length of the bridge, of every hue and of surpassing 
lustre ; thus closing an exhibition exceeding in magnificence any- 
thing of a similar kind, which it has been my fortune ever to be- 
hold. 

No report has been made of any accident happening during 
the day, notwithstanding the vast number assembled. Three or 
four hundred thousand persons were undoubtedly spectators of 
these fireworks. Indeed, there were fifteen thousand troops of 
the line in active service in or near the garden, besides numerous 
other grades of " guardians of the peace." The crowd was of 
the most orderly character; though they were required to 
rest five or ten minutes in the midst of a " squeeze," — a trying 
moment, — near the outlet and the Pont Royal, I did not hear a 
complaint escape. Thus ended the day, and I close this descrip- 
tion with my best wishes for the health, long life, and prosperity 
of Louis Philippe, the wisest of modern kings. In addition, I 
think I shall communicate pleasure to all by sending herewith a 
translation of the principal speeches made by the heads of the 
various delegations sent to wait upon him, together with his re- 
sponses. A translation cannot possibly retain the force and 
beauty, so strikingly expressed in the originals. The tournure 
de phrase is very expressive and beautiful, but of so extremely 
delicate a texture, as often to become gross in the version, and in 
its bluntness wholly to lose its force. Notwithstanding this dis- 



CONGRATULATORY ADDRESSES. 175 



advantage, I think that no one can read the address of the Presi- 
dent of the Deputies — or the lower house — without being touched 
with the simple beauty, that pervades it. The response of the 
king shows, that he was deeply impressed with its sincerity, and 
his words have less of that stereotype style, which necessarily 
distinguishes the others. 



XXVIII. 

Versailles — The Palace — Its Cost — Desecration in 1792 — Its 
Restoration by Louis Philippe — Its Embellishments, Pictures and 
Statues— Napoleon as he lives on the Canvas — Effects of these 
Paintings on a Spectator. 

Yesterday and to-day I spent at Versailles, with Dr. Potter 
of Augusta, Me., and when I say at Versailles, I mean at the pal- 
ace, for the town itself can boast of few attractions. It owes all 
its consequence to this single building, one of the most remarka- 
ble, considered in itself, and also on account of its contents, which 
the world contains. It is situated at a distance of twelve miles 
from Paris, toward the south-west, and though it possesses few 
inhabitants and no commerce, two railroads connect it with the 
great world. Before the Revolution, 100,000 people were num- 
bered among its citizens, and all the great and noble of the land 
spent a laro;e portion of their time here. It is now comparative- 
ly deserted, her lordly mansions are vacant, and her spacious, 
but dreary streets, no longer echo with the equipages of rank 
and wealth and fashion. Her once flourishing and voluptuous 
population have dwindled now to thirty thousand persons. 

In the 16th century, Versailles was but an inconsiderable vil- 
lage environed entirely with forests, whither the King of Navarre, 
afterwards the renowned Henry IV., resorted to hunt. In 1624 
Louis XIII. purchased the land around, and erected a small cha- 
teau, the germ of the present immense pile. It is of red brick, 
and occupies the centre of the present structure. Louis XIV., in 
1664, commenced the construction of the palace, as it now ex- 
ists, with the intention of making it the seat of his court. The 
most celebrated architect of the day was entrusted with the exe- 
cution of the kingly design. The many difficulties to be sur- 

176 



PALACE OF VERSAILLES. 177 

mounted, from the nature of the situation, served only to stimu- 
late the monarch ; and the work was prosecuted with such vigor, 
that a proud habitation for a proud monarch soon arose under 
their hands. Le Notre arranged the gardens and grounds. Ex- 
cavations were dug, terraces raised, and the immense park, mea- 
suring twenty leagues, was protected by a wall. Two or three 
other walls divided the land into extensive gardens, parks and 
other enclosures of luxury or utility. For the water required to 
fill the reservoirs and fountains, a plan was conceived, and actu- 
ally begun to be executed, of turning the river Eure from its 
course. Nothing, in short, deterred that magnificent monarch 
from the accomplishment of his grand designs ; not money, for 
though no accurate accounts can be obtained of the expenditures, 
the estimates exceeded two hundred millions of dollars; not labor, 
for the entire army of thirty thousand men during the peace 
were not unfrequently all employed at once upon the works. 
The palace itself, with all its richness, cost less than the works 
around it. These statistics may serve to communicate, perhaps, 
some idea of its grandeur. 

Every effort was made to people the town ; every encourage- 
ment held out, to all who wished to build ; so that ere long an 
elegant city and a numerous population surrounded the royal 
residence. In 1681 the Court removed^ thither from St Germain ; 
since that time the works have been in continual progress, 
each successive monarch adding something to improve his splendid 
inheritance on his accession to the throne. In 1792, with the 
vandalism, which disgraced the age, its furniture of the richest 
quality was sent to market. Its invaluable paintings, together 
with every thing else that was moveable, shared the same fate. 

Napoleon's influence alone saved the entire royal property from 
the hammer of the auctioneer in lots to suit. The estimated cost 
of ten million dollars, for its restoration, was the only hinderance 
to his residing here. Louis XVIII. limited his expenses to one 
million and twenty thousand dollars, which were laid out princi- 
pally in repairs. Charles X., in the contracted spirit of his reign, 
did nothing. Louis Philippe has given to the place a destination, 



178 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 

" Time had produced its revolution in opinions, and Versailles 
could not longer exist under the conditions of the monarchy of 
Louis XIV. — it could no longer be the abode of a population of 
courtiers, or the Olympus of a monarch. To become the con- 
centration of all the illustrious of France, to collect the inherit- 
ance of all her glories, and, without being despoiled of the type 
of grandeur now passed away, to be clothed with other grandeur 
new and national, was a destiny not less splendid and august, than 
that at first assigned it." Louis Philippe has done this with 
equal felicity in design, and promptitude of execution. He has 
effaced the disfigurements of time ; restored the grand concep- 
tions of its great originator ; reproduced the painted ceilings and 
gildings, formed new saloons and galleries ; improved and har- 
monized the whole, and finally embellished it with an immense 
collection of paintings and sculptures, which illustrate every period 
and, event that have reflected lustre on the French name. Three 
million dollars have already been expended, and the disbursements 
are still going on. The Royal Family no longer make their abode 
in the palace, now converted into one vast museum, but the Tri- 
anon, originally a dependency merely, now receives the King and 
his interesting household into its quiet retreat. 

On approaching from the railway depot, two enormous build- 
ings appear immediately in front of the palace, the size of which, 
as well as their somewhat aristocratic air, distinguish them as 
residences of nobility. Great then is the astonishment on learn- 
ing that they are merely stables, though at present vacant. 
They supply accommodation for a thousand horses. The great 
court-yard of the palace is adorned with sixteen colossal statues 
of the ministers, generals and great men of the country, exqui- 
sitely chiseled in white marble ; and, in their centre, an excellent 
equestrian statue in bronze of Louis XIV, of gigantic dimensions. 
I noticed several good-sized men engaged in some cleansing ope- 
ration, standing under the horse with their hats in their hands. 
On the wings of the structure is an inscription which announces 
the present destination of the palace, A toutes les gloires de 
la France. The views of the palace from the town, and also 



GALLERY OF PAINTINGS. 179 

from the Park, are of the most beautiful description. The same 
boasting spirit, that pervades the French nation not less than her 
neighbors, and which has always characterized every people, that 
have performed anything which would sustain a vaunt, has caus- 
ed to be placed on each side of the grand entrance of the court- 
yard two emblematic sculptures in stone, one representing France 
victorious over Austria, with a statue of Peace by its side ; the 
other, France triumphant over Spain, and at its side a statue of 
Abundance, the former by Maroy, the latter by Giradon. 

Leaving the exterior, and entering the building, we find it con- 
sists of two large apartments, richly gilded and otherwise orna- 
mented, formerly the abode of different officers of the court. 
The furniture, I have already mentioned, was disposed of many 
years ago, and the whole interior has been remodeled to suit its 
present design. The partitions have been removed, and large 
halls thus formed, to the whole of which has been assigned the 
name of " The Historical Museum." Each part has likewise a 
distinguishing title. The American, who has never been accus- 
tomed to see more than four or five hundred pictures at a time, is be- 
wildered with the immense multitude all around him. For hours 
and hours he walks through continuous galleries and smaller 
rooms ; he mounts to the garret, descends almost to the cellar, 
and still he beholds paintings on paintings, busts and statues, " a 
multitude which no man can number." The very immensity of 
the collection to be seen, prevents his properly observing any. 
If he can grasp the general scope, and penetrate one or two of 
the striking characters in some of them, he does well ; but the 
slighter and less observable points, which so often indicate the 
consummate artist, are not visible to his rapid glance. Although 
I have spent hours in these galleries, and feasted on their 
treasures, I am scarcely willing to assert, that I have seen them, 
because I have not been able to look upon them calmly. Inde- 
pendently of the little time which I could devote to each, t\e agi- 
tation excited by their contemplation kept me in a state little favora- 
ble for criticism, or close examination. As a person on reading an 
intensely interesting tale, or beholding the tragic creations of a 



180 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

great author, represented on the stage, is wrought up to such a 
delirium of feeling, as to pass over with slight notice the beauties 
of description, the nice shades of expression and the poetical 
imagery, so one is equally transported on witnessing similar 
scenes start out before him on the canvas — the breathing lip, the 
eloquent eye, and the countenance dissolved in grief, as por- 
trayed by the hand of the great master. Never before did I feel 
the real power of the pencil, never had I, till now, acknow- 
ledged in my soul the mighty intellect of the man, who was the 
fons et oriffo of wonderful imaginations, like some of these. 

But my object is description ; and first of the historical 
pictures, which are principally representations of the great bat- 
tles, in which France has acquired unfading renown, and which 
illustrate her prowess from the earliest period. Passing by the 
old paintings, which treat of events in the earlier periods of the 
national annals — the times of Charlemagne, the Crusades, of the 
Louises XIV, XV, XVI, — we come to an epoch, more interesting 
at present to most persons, as the events have occurred in the 
presence, as it were, of many now alive, and are fresh in the 
minds of all ; the time of the great Napoleon. Here are vivid 
pictures of the principal battles where he triumphed. Wagram, 
Austerlitz, Marengo, and Moscow, are exhibited with a power 
and faithfulness, which, while they chill the blood at the sight of 
so much suffering and carnage, exalt the consummate general 
who achieved them, and stands out the most conspicuous object 
in the groups. The effect of these paintings is wonderful. In 
the great city, almost everything is stamped with his genius ; his 
comprehensive intellect, surveying all things with a glance, is 
there seen to penetrate into the depths of futurity. The voice of 
that city is full of the praise of the soldier and the sage. The grey- 
haired veteran limps about on crutches, with both arms gone, 
yet, having his hat attached to an iron hook on a wooden arm, 
waves it about his head, and with feeble shouts hails the mem- 
ory of the departed hero. Full of these emotions, I enter these 
halls, and am still surrounded by the same master spirit. I con- 
template those fields of his and the nation's glory, fight over 



NAPOLEON. 181 



again those battles, already engraven on my soul by the pen of 
the historic muse, and, unconsciously to myself, a feeling of 
hatred creeps gradually over my heart toward that nation, who, 
profiting by an accident, brutally triumphed over the greatest 
mind that ever lived, and insulted and enslaved the man, whom 
they still feared, but could not humble nor subdue. I can, I do 
feel deeply for the French ; my heart goes with them, and I can 
sympathize with that party, who are disgusted with the peaceful 
aims of the present ruler, and desire once more to stand in the immi- 
nent deadly breach, again to strike for France, to fight once more, 
though but with the memory of Napoleon for a leader. I defy 
the greatest advocate of peace that lives, to look upon these 
paintings calmly ; to view with cool composure the brown coat, 
the cocked hat, the white horse, the calm features of the man of 
destiny, who subdued all — even himself and his own feelings, — 
for ambition — for glory — for France. Had I lived in those tem- 
pestuous times, my heart tells me, how easily I could have 
shouldered the musket, and drawn the trigger, under the auspi- 
ces of that glorious commander. Were I now engaged in 
actually doing what has now an existence only in the fancy, my 
heart could not beat more tumultuously, than it does at this mo- 
ment, while recalling what I have seen, and recounting an oft- 
repeated tale. If this is human nature, how long will it be be- 
fore the epoch shall arrive, when our swords shall be beat into 
permanent ploughshares, and our spears into lasting pruning- 
hooks, and men shall learn war no more ? 

These pictures are not to be enumerated by fives and tens, but 
by fifties and hundreds ; many are of the size of life, where each 
face is a portrait, and each action represented, a real event. In 
some, every eye is turned upon the general ; in others, the poor 
sufferer lies mortally wounded near him, and, as the last life drop is 
oozing from his veins, with his latest strength and dying breath, he 
hails the presence of his general, king, emperor. The return from 
Elba, the parting from the troops at Fontainbleau, the presenta- 
tion of the cross of the Legion of Honor to a Russian enemy, 
distinguished as the bravest in the army, and many other scenes 
11 



182 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

of his eventful life, have employed the pencils of the greatest 
artists of France, how well, I have attempted to express, not by 
critical analysis, but by a simple account of their influence over 
an unprejudiced beholder. 

To avoid the prolixity of my last two communications, I will 
defer what I have further to say of these pictures to the next 
letter. 



XXIX. 

Pictures, Coins and Medals in the Palace at Versailles — Chapel — 
Louis XIV — Opera Room — Grand Gallery of Glass — Fountains — 
Parterre d'eau — Ancient Orange Tree — Bassin de Neptune — 
Fountain of Latona — Chariot of the Sun — Bassin d' Encelade — 
Bosquet des Bassins d'Apollon — Bassin des Enfans — America and 
her Artists. 

Leaving the reign of Napoleon, we come to that of Louis 
XVIII. One or two pictures represent his flight from the Tuil- 
leries, and serve only to exhibit his portrait and his fat dumpy 
figure. Charles X. succeeds. Few incidents occurred in his short 
sway, though much too long for the good of his country. Pic- 
tures of his reviewing the troops in the Champ de Mars are the 
principal, and possess but little interest. In addition to his own 
portrait, that of Louis Philippe, as Lieutenant General, appears in 
them. Next follow the numerous paintings commemorating 
most of the political occurrences in the chequered career of the 
present sovereign. We see him, the favorite of the people, leav- 
ing his residence in the Palais Royal on horseback to go to the 
Hotel de Ville ; while the honors of the three days of 1830 are 
showered along his path. The excited populace, with arms in 
their hands, surround him, but not with hostile, intent ; for hats 
are waved, and the very walls quiver with their cheers. Again 
the deputies by delegation announce to him the honor the coun- 
try had conferred upon him. His family are around him, and 
participate in the thrilling event. The portraits of Lafayette, 
Soult, and many others, are striking. A similar scene is present- 
ed by a deputation from the Chamber of Peers. In another he 
refuses the crown of Belgium offered to his son. The number 

183 



184 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

of such representations is very great. Few preceding kings have 
had so many incidents in their reigns illustrated by the pencil. 
It is exceedingly interesting to look upon the portraits of all the 
kings from Pharamond to the present day, the Grand Admirals 
— among whom those of the discoverers, the unfortunate La 
Perouse and others, are particularly deserving of attention — the 
Constables, Marshals, and great Warriors and distinguished men 
of France. Beside these, there are coins and medals, which il- 
lustrate the different ages. Many of these are marked with 
much rudeness of execution, and exhibit such distortion of faces, 
that one cannot entertain a very favorable opinion of the vaunted 
beauty of the originals. They are interesting too for the variety 
of styles displayed in their costume. One, celebrating the court 
of some queen and the company dancing, arrayed in hoops and 
high heeled shoes, was especially ludicrous. 

The busts and statues are very numerous ; some in plaster, but 
very many in marble ; among the most observable of which are 
Richelieu, Mazarin, the brave Gaston de Foix and Bayard, the 
ever-venerated Fenelon, Blanche of Navarre, and the beautiul 
statue of one of the most remarkable heroines, that we have any 
knowledge of, the famous Joan d'Arc — the work of the Princess 
Marie, deceased daughter of Louis Philippe. In giving some ac- 
count of the chapel of St. Ferdinand, in a former letter, I men- 
tioned a beautiful angel, also the work of the same talented Duch-. 
ess of Wirtemberg. To this succeeds the Hall, where are some 
very large pictures, representing still later events than any yet 
mentioned, in which figure the different sons of the king. The 
siege and capture of Constantine shows the Due d'Orleans and a 
younger brother ; while, near it, is a sea-fight to the glory of 
Prince de Joinville. These paintings are all by Horace Yernet, 
the great painter of the present day, and are gems of art. The 
sea-scene is exceedingly fine. The light shines through the sail, 
and the splinters in the ship's side, which a cannon ball had 
struck, are nature itself. A large picture now in the exhibition 
of the works of modern artists in the Louvre, which, I believe, I 
have heretofore alluded to, will shortly be placed here. It is 
saying mnch to affirm, that it is worthy of the immense space, 



OPERA ROOM. 185 



which it will occupy. Many other works of this great master are 
in various galleries of this palace. 

An interesting part of the building is the Chapel, which has 
lately been restored to all the splendor for which it was remark- 
able in the age of Louis XIV. Whatever else this overrated 
monarch did, or omitted, — and none comprehend his quantum of 
merit more accurately than many of his countrymen — he resem- 
bled many a solemn American in a punctilious attendance at church. 
He went daily to mass, but not content with securing his own sal- 
vation, he required his courtiers to bear him company. Quam 
prope ad pietatem sine pietate. On this portion of the palace 
extraordinary taste and grandeur are lavished. The pavement is 
of the richest marbles, wrought into Mosaic, and the walls and 
ceiling, supported by a superb architrave and cornice above lofty 
Corinthian columns, are magnificently painted by the distinguished 
A. Coypel, Lafosse and Jouvenet. Statues, basso-relievos and 
pictures are not wanting to complete the garniture of this ex- 
quisite apartment. 

The Opera Room is secluded from the public view, but on pre- 
sentation of the talismanic ticket, 



" — It opens wide 

Its ever-pleasant gates, harmonious sound, 
On golden hinges turning," 

and the beauty and lustre, which then break in upon you, well 
repay the trouble requisite to obtain it. The ornaments are 
crimson and gold, accompanied with a profusion of mirrors and 
chandeliers. The first grand representation here was given in 
honor of the marriao-e of Louis XVI., and the last on the inau- 
guration of the Historical Museum, the 17th of May, 1837. On 
the first of these occasions, it was illuminated with ten thousand 
wax candles. Now gas is introduced. The expenses of a Grand 
Opera, given at this place, are not less than twenty thousand 
dollars. 

Among the noble apartments which are decorated with regal 
splendor, is the king's, with its marbles, rich gilding, and painted 
ceilings ; the queen's, less richly, but not less agreeably embel- 
11* 



186 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

lished with white and gold ; but the Grand Gallery of Glass 
excels them all, and is one of the most magnificent rooms in the 
universe. It is two hundred and forty-two feet in length, thirty- 
five feet wide, and forty-three feet high. As its name implies, it 
possesses numerous mirrors, one entire side being wholly filled by 
them, set in arcades, which reflect the light let in through seven- 
teen immense windows opposite. Between the arcades and the 
windows are sixty composite pilasters of red marble, having bases 
and capitals of gilt bronze, and the entrances are adorned with 
similar columns. The ceiling is vaulted, and painted by Le 
Brun with allegorical representations of the leading events in 
the career of Louis XIV. In the sleeping apartment of that 
king is the famous " Titans " of Paul Veronese, which was 
brought from Italy by Napoleon, and now ornaments the ceiling. 
Here, also, is the richly decorated bed on which Louis XIV. 
breathed his last, The coverlet and curtains are satin, worked 
with superb embroidery by the ladies of St. Cyr. In the private 
apartments are some evidences of the mechanical talents of Louis 
XVI. , such as a long brass meridian line running across the floor, 
placed there by that king himself. The locks still upon the 
doors are of royal workmanship. 

Here I shall conclude this running sketch of the exterior and 
interior of this celebrated and wonderful palace ; one that never 
has been equalled in ages past, and is not likely to have a par- 
allel for centuries to come. This prediction is based on the alter- 
ed character of the times. Kings have so often been made and 
unmade within the last half century, general information and the 
spirit of liberty have been so widely diffused, that generations on 
generations must rise and fade away, and some unforeseen revul- 
sion of the social state, or eclipse of learning intervene, before 
any people will ever again suffer so vast an expenditure of public 
money to be wrung from their own starving industry, merely to 
gratify the whim, or promote the aggrandisement of one, who, 
if called King, is no longer the sacred vicegerent of heaven 
which he "pretended to be at former periods. Afflavit Deus, et 
dissipantur. Still the future is unfathomable. The taste of some 



THE ORANGERIE. 187 



future Roman emperor may attempt a similar work of splendid 
extravagance. His power is despotic enough, and his subjects 
sufficiently enslaved and ignorant. 

But an account, sketch though it be, which should stop with 
a description of the palace, would transfer a very imperfect im- 
pression indeed of this extraordinary spot. It would be painting 
the head of Venus only, forgetting all the other unapproachable 
beauties of the goddess of beauty. The gardens, parks and 
fountains of Versailles equally deserve the best efforts of the pen- 
cil and pen, as well from the immense sums, that have been 
unsparingly lavished on their construction, as for the sculptural 
beauties, which are every where scattered around. The fountains 
are among the most celebrated artificial water- works in the world, 
and are visited by every stranger, who comes to the metropolis. 
From the palace, following the great avenue on the terrace, is the 
Parterre d'eau, which contains two oblong basins, on whose bor- 
ders are twenty-four groups in bronze, eight nymphs, eight 
groups of children, and the four principal rivers of France, with 
their tributaries. A jet d'eau, in the form of a basket, is in the 
centre of each. At both ends of the terrace are fountains with 
bronze animals, the water gushing from their open mouths. De- 
scending from the terrace, on the south side of the palace, after 
passing over a hundred marble steps, and more, we come to the 
Orangerie. This is simply intended for the preservation of the 
oranges and pomegranates during winter. One of these orange 
trees the antiquarian will view with gusto, as it has lived and 
flourished in its vegetable kingdom, while dynasties and govern- 
ments of men have risen and crumbled repeatedly around it, and 
in its very presence. The pedigree of this venerable patriarch is 
not completely known, but its seed was sown in 1421 — before the 
discovery of America ; — it has prospered during twelve reigns, 
and is still in good health and the enjoyment of a green old age. 
It is called the Grand Bourbon, from its being part of the confis- 
cated property of the Constable de Bourbon. This is the legend, 
but I cannot stop to investigate its foundation, and if I could, lejeu 
vHen vaut pas la chandelle. " I say the tale as it was said to me." 

What an inestimable privilege is this ! A beautiful garden ever 



188 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

open to the pent up resident of the city, who, tired by labor all 
the week, and heated by the intolerable rays of a many times 
reflected sun, can hither resort, and lie in the shade of the green 
trees on the soft sward, and listen to the sweet melody of sylvan 
songsters, and the rippling of the water-falls. Or, if he pleases, 
he may enter the beautiful palace, and stroll from one elegant 
object to another, and drink deep draughts of rapture at the 
sight of master-pieces of painting and sculpture. When the 
United States have a king, they may expect to have picture 
galleries and public gardens. Till the advent of such a person- 
age, or his " counterfeit presentment" in a Pericles or a Medicis, 
greedy of gold, and avaricious of every spot of ground, where a 
blade of grass can grow, or tulip bulb be planted, they will 
speculate on the possibility of making a carrot or a cabbage 
usurp its place. The elegant must give way to the useful — utile 
sine dulci — and the reins of fancy are held in check by the rough 
hands of the money-getter. Is it a wonder that the old world 
produces the poets, the painters, the sculptors and artists of all 
kinds, when schools, such as these, are always open, free as air, 
to every comer ? These halls during week days are filled with 
painters, who have come to study and copy the striking beauties 
of the great masters. So it is in every large gallery of pictures 
in the realm, and there are very many of them. In the United 
States, the government can boast of owning some half a dozen 
paintings, which have been thriftily hawked about the country 
for exhibition at twenty-five cents a head. In France, besides 
the opportunities thus afforded for study, there is a public school 
held in the palace of fine arts, where the best one hundred of the 
competitors are every six months received for gratuitous instruc- 
tion ; two-thirds in painting, the rest in sculpture. The competi- 
tors number about five hundred. Every year the best three 
scholars are sent to Rome at the government's expense, to study 
among the chef-d'oeuvre s of the world. Thus France is the 
vigilant foster-mother of genius ; so the United States should 
be ; but on the contrary, she not only neglects the instruction, 
but withholds the rewards of genius. Even when an artist has 
shed lustre by his talents on his native land, he is left to starve 



STATUES AND FOUNTAINS. 189 

for want of employment. If by a strange accident the gov- 
ernment happen to order a work of art, with skinflint meanness 
it cuts down the price — to lavish it on a partizan contractor — till 
its encouragement becomes an ignis fatuus. Witness the last 
work of Greenough. And Power, the gifted Power, shall he not 
find work in his own land ? Must genius expatriate itself to find 
bread ? I call on you, President Polk, to attend to this. In- 
stead of despicable live office beggars, let the court-yard of the 
Capitol be filled with the statues of the dead signers of the im- 
mortal Declaration. Not with paltry busts, but bid the greatest 
of our own land to rival one another in the perpetuation of the 
lineaments of the great men of our common country. Do this, 
and hope to receive the honor of a statue yourself — twin glory 
with the laurel among the Ancients in the next collection — that 
of the Presidents of America. The National Gallery of Painting 
and Sculpture ! Where is it ? Let not a future generation re- 
peat the demand. Let a commencement be made now, if only 
with an engraving and a plaster bust. Let every State pay 
these pure honors to her great men. Warren, Hancock, Adams, 
and many others should stand before the Capitol at Boston. 
Let New York surround her City Hall with the images of Hamil- 
ton, Fulton, Clinton, and similar worthies ; and Jersey illuminate 
the heights of Trenton with those of her Stocktons and her 
illustrious military heroes. Which of the old Thirteen cannot 
claim numbers deserving this high reward ? And the new States, 
if any of them cannot yet point to their great men, have the 
same blood running in their veins, and will soon create them. 

The fountains, which have been running and shooting up their 
spray and foaming bubbles, have now subsided. My pen too is 
still ; its any architecture has vanished, and nothing remains, but 
hopes, strong anticipations — are they baseless? — of the future 

; ' <^ri (rlory of America. 



XXX. 

Grand Trianon — Little Trianon — Private Apartments — French 
Gardbns — Cooper, the Pioneer American Novelist — Freedom of 
the Press. 

Even from my inadequate description of the royal residence at 
Versailles, a person might be ready to imagine, that little could 
be added to increase the magnificence of the condition of kings ; 
and that any other buildings and gardens, placed near this mira- 
cle of art, would not only be superfluous, but wanting in judg- 
ment and taste. Though these might be rich and elegant in 
themselves, that a direct comparison must necessarily be the re- 
sult, and everything else less imperial, must become dim, if not 
entirely lost, in the shadow of the mighty palace. Such is the 
first impression ; yet, when that person comes to see the 
Grand Trianon, and the Little Trianon, his opinion will be en- 
tirely changed. The difference in the architecture, and the 
whole external appearance, render comparison as impossible, as 
one between a ship of the line and a pleasure yacht. The Trianons 
do not enter into competition with their proud neighbor. They 
have no extended court-yard, adorned with colossal statuary, no 
towering walls and pointed turrets, no gaudy Corinthian pillars, nor 
lofty balconies, which so strongly characterize the majesty of the 
larger structure ; but, simple, modest, and unassuming, the 
Grand Trianon bears away, without the least arrogance, the 
palm of beauty. 

The Grand Trianon was built by Louis XIV. for Madame 
de Maintenon. It is in the Italian style, and of a single story in 
height. At the extremity of the Park of Versailles, its situation 
is retired and enchanting. It consists of two wings united by a 
gallery, pierced with arcades and fronted with magnificent Ionic 

190 



GRAND TRIANON. 191 



columns, and coupled pilasters in Languedoc marble. The grand 
palace, as already observed, is no longer the abode of the royal 
line, having yielded that honor to this less imposing building, 
which possesses a simple beauty charming to every eye. Louis 
XIV., XV., and XVI. were fond of retiring hither from the pomp 
and bustle which oppressed them at the more lordly mansion. 
Napoleon spent much of his time here, and, to facilitate his ap- 
proach, constructed a direct road from the palace of St. Cloud, 
his still more favorite habitation. It is now occupied by Louis 
Philippe for some months every autumn. In the left wing are 
the apartments of the Queen, those in the right belong to the 
King. The Grand Gallery, one hundred and sixty feet long, is 
filled with objects of art. Among them are some executed by 
royalty, statues and other works. " Here," says the guide, " the 
King dresses." Cataracts, earthquakes, and even the deluge it- 
self have been converted into music, why then should not a din- 
ner be ? And it is ; — for, "here," continues the guide, in a little 
anteroom, " are placed the band, who play while he eats." This 
is the last refinement of cookery, and must prove, it is not 
doubted, a substantial help to royal mastication, and contribute 
very much to keep the kingly organ of digestion in proper tune. 
At any rate, it must effectually drown conversation, and so 
leave greater leisure to play with the knife and fork. — 
" Here their majesties sleep," pointing to a bedstead, so 
overlaid with gold, that the wood could nowhere be seen. The 
hangings are of crimson satin, embroidered with gold, and border- 
ed with a fringe of gold lace. The coverlet is white satin dam- 
ask. The bed, like those of all the royal family, consists of 
but one mattress, which fact was particulary remarked by the 
guide, probably to show the hardships endured by royalty. This 
is not so shocking as the floors, which do really seem to be un- 
comfortable. They are similar to those in all the palaces, con- 
structed of oak, and waxed. The private bed-chambers and bath 
rooms are all finished in this manner. I have not seen a carpet 
on any room, with but a single exception, in the royal palaces. 
I wonder if kings and queens have cold feet, like ordinary humani- 
ty. The little prince and princesses of England were said — it 






192 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

might be a scandalous rumor — to have had the whooping-cough 
last spring. " This," quoth the guide, again, " is the bed- 
chamber of the princess, this of the maids of honor, and this of 
the valet," et cetera. 

The little Trianon is a two story edifice, seventy-two feet square, 
with four fluted Corinthian columns in front. It is situated at a 
little distance from the Grand Trianon, and is at present occupied 
by the mother of the- Count de Paris. The Empress Marie 
Louise formerly resided here, and the bed room remains just as 
she left it. It is hung with blue silk, and the bed with a drapery 
of muslin and gold. The whole interior without having anything 
remarkable, is light and pleasing. The garden is laid out in 
English style, and is particularly fine. A garden in France would 
scarcely pass for one in America. It is not necessarily filled with 
flowers. Indeed, it is far more often a portion of land, divided 
by box-fringed walks into regular compartments, with here and 
there a few flowers. The trees which shade it are cut and trim- 
med, till they assume a square, precise, and quaker-like appear- 
ance, which is far from pleasing. The main difference between a 
French garden, and one a VAnglaise is, that in the latter the tail- 
oring is carried on to a less extent, and consequently the trees 
have more the look of nature. The beds, too, have not the reg- 
ular square and diamond form, which characterizes the former. 
As far as relates to flowers, there is but little difference. I fear, 
if you should attempt to cut a sizeable bouquet from either, that 
they would be missed, and, as happened in another garden, some 
time ago, when Eve plucked the forbidden apple, they 

" Would feel the wound, and show forth signs of woe 
That all was lost." 

In one part, on the banks of a piece of water, is the " Swiss 
Village." These peculiarly shaped houses, with their thatched 
roofs, were erected by Marie Antoinette. They have a charm- 
ing picturesque effect, surrounded and enclosed as they are com- 
pletely, with verdant foliage. They serve for the residence of 
domestics. A short distance from the Trianon itself is the temple 
<T 'Amour, situated on an island, and built of white marble. It is 
simply a roof upheld by numerous pillars. The floor is tesselat- 



COOPER, THE NOVELIST. 193 



ed marble. In the centre, on a pedestal, is a beautiful statue of 

the wily god. 

Here lovers may resort, and breathe sweet sighs 
Beneath the cold pale moon and silent skies ; 
While wanton zephyrs play upon the trees — 
Those forest harps of wond'rous harmonies — 
Wild strains, that bathe the soul in ecstasies. 

But I am straying from my path. Is it strange ? Kings and 
nobles have done so before me. 

While describing the pictures in these palaces, I am reminded 
of some fine engravings, that I have lately seen. They are 
recently executed, and are illustrations of portions of the works 
of Cooper. Among them is the scene, where Leatherstocking 
kills the cougar, which menaces the destruction of the two girls. 
Another is taken from the Last of the Mohegans, where the In- 
dians are retreating into the cave, concealed imperfectly by 
branches of trees. The gallant officer is standing ready to defend 
the two trembling girls behind him. It is not on account of the 
extraordinary beauty of these engravings that I mention them, 
so much as for the sake of the author of the works from which 
these scenes are borrowed. This man, whose writings, translated 
into every tongue of Europe, shed lustre on his country, praised 
as he is, and respected abroad, is abused and persecuted in his 
own native land with a virulence almost without a parallel. The 
family of a great man, though partial enough in many respects, 
are not the first to discover, and pay extraordinary deference 
to his merits. The housekeeper of the eminent mathematician, 
D'Alembert, during the whole forty years they lived together, 
saw nothing but poor St. John le Rond, the foundling, in the man 
who was all that time making Europe resound with his name. 
And the United States, ever ready to pay a kind of colonial 
homage to foreign blood and stamps and imprimaturs, have 
been slow to perceive the excellence of anything of domestic 
origin : 

" Slow rises worth by cold neglect oppressed." 

With regard to Cooper, the wrong is inflicted not by public 
opinion, but private animosity. The licentiousness of the Ameri- 



194 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

can press is assuredly a very different thing from what our 
fathers sought. They never contended for the freedom of black- 
ening the fair fame of private individuals, and had not the re- 
motest intention of transforming a telegraph of public events into 
a tremendous vehicle for the outpouring and diffusion of private 
hatred. Say what they will, Cooper will live as long as letters 
shall survive. His works are grafted into the literature of all 
nations ; and, till that shall be destroyed, long after the red man, 
driven from hill to valley, and flying before the steps of civiliza- 
tion, — that is, rum and bloodhounds, shall have ceased to exist, — 
so long will Cooper be remembered, like Leatherstocking, the 
first to penetrate, and the first to gain a settlement in the unknown 
wilderness of American literature. 

Something I wished to add on a more entertaining topic, but 
the steam-ship will not wait, and the wanton nerve of a defective 
tooth is just now amusing me with its gambols. The poor thing 
is not an unapt emblem of many a man we meet with in the 
world, always fretful and disagreeable, often offensive to the 
public taste, and sometimes even outraging private feeling, he is 
yet flattered, coaxed and borne with, merely for the gold which 
he possesses. 



XXXI. 

Prison des Jeunes Detenus-— Results of the Solitary System — Depot 

DE CoNDAMNES PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF THE CONVICTS The FACE 

an Index of Character — Employments, Privileges, and Manners 
of the Prisoners — The Sympathising Turnkey. 

My last letter concluded with a description of that prison in 
Paris, called Maison Centrale D' Education Correctionelle, or the 
Prison des Jeunes Detenus ; but I was under the necessity of bring- 
ing it to a close, before any adequate account of this remarkable 
institution could be completed. This extraordinary structure has 
been mentioned ; its tenants ; their diversions, and some of their 
employments. In addition to those already alluded to, I saw 
specimens of carving, in oak and mahogany, executed by the pris- 
oners, of great elegance. The carvers are also skilful in design. 
This is not acquired by means of plates or engravings, but by the 
presentation of the object itself, or a plaster cast to the pupil 
for study. As practical usefulness is the end of all this applica- 
tion, their attention is directed principally to the copying of carv- 
ings or casts, representing old Wood sculpture. The proceeds of 
their industry are laid aside, and given them, when they go out, 
that they may not, by the temptations of want, be drawn to the 
commission of crime to supply themselves with the absolute ne- 
cessaries of life. Two small holes in the door enable the person, 
who has the care of them, to inspect their proceedings with facil- 
ity ; and at the same time furnish the tenants with the means of 
calling either the teacher or officer by placing in them a small 
stick. 

The prisoners no longer go to the chapel to attend mass, but 
are present there by a theological fiction, notwithstanding they 
are, during the whole service, personally in their cells. The value 

195 



196 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

of this fiction every one, who is conversant with the frequent oc- 
currence and efficacy of similar ones in the venerable science of 
the law, will be able to appreciate. The ingenuity of the inven- 
tion cannot be too highly esteemed, which is indeed susceptible of 
very extensive application, as it enables the priest to say prayers 
and preach without any immediate visible audience, who may in 
the meantime stay at home, and receive as much benefit, as if 
they had been physically present. There is little, if any, appear- 
ance of gloom in the faces of these juvenile offenders. One, who 
had been there four years, told me, " it was very comfortable, 
though sometimes, he regretted, rather sober." " Ah !" says the 
guide, laughing with the young fellow, " they sometimes fret a 
little for the first week after entrance, but soon get accustomed 
to the place." 

But the principal question is not yet noticed, which is, the effect 
of this mode of treatment compared with its opposite ; and this is 
the agreeable ingredient in this investigation. Notwithstanding 
all the fine reasoning, that has been employed with so much 
power, the mind cannot yet be entirely divested of the first deep 
sentiment of horror, created by the silent cell with its perpetual 
lonely tenant. There is something so dreary and distressing at 
such a sight, and even in the bare imagination of it, that a benev- 
olent man hastens to turn to its results for the purpose of recon- 
ciling himself to such a plan. And if, by the operation of the 
silent system, eighty out of every hundred convicts return to their 
wallowing in the mire, but by the solitary principle, the tables 
are turned, and eighty prisoners out of every hundred are 
redeemed, and "sin no more," as is the fact, do not such inesti- 
mable consequences compensate for what, I really think, is only 
an apparent inhumanity of the scheme ? Does it not seem almost 
a miracle to restore to the community, ignorant, wretched, desti- 
tute and vicious beings, converted, after a temporary seclusion 
only, into educated and virtuous citizens, having money at their 
disposal, the earnings of their industry, and a trade, which will al- 
most insure them the easy acquisition of more ? When the public 
safety has been secured, all punishment afterwards degenerates 
into vengeance, and the law, whose single aim should be the 



THE DEPOT DE CONDAMNES. 197 

public good, becomes a mere lex talionis. But justitia should be 
regina virtutum, and it ought not to be forgotten, that among 
the hecatombs, which are continually offered on her altar, are 
victims for whose real welfare, as well as that of the state, those 
sacrifices are made. The number here confined is four hundred 
and twelve. 

The spacious structure opposite, is the Dipot de Condamnes, to 
which all convicts, sentenced to imprisonment for hard labor 
during any considerable length of time, are sent ; those however 
condemned for any period beyond a year remain there, only till 
they can be transported to the galleys in the various parts of the 
kingdom. Such also, as are sentenced to death, are kept here, 
till their execution. To these last two prisons the home-sounding 
name of The Tombs might be appropriately applied. Their situa- 
tion, too, in close proximity to Pere la Chaise, would seem to favor, 
the nomination. 

This building was erected on the plan of M. Gau, in the short 
space of eighteen months, at a cost of one hundred and fifty thou- 
sand dollars nearly. It lies in the form of a hollow quadrangle, 
making the contained court one hundred and eighty feet in length 
by one hundred and fifty feet in breadth. It is three stories high, 
the lower of which is occupied by workshops, and the upper by 
the cells of the prisoners. Each one, on arrival, is immersed in a 
bath, and assumes a suit of gray cloth instead of his own. He 
enjoys the liberty however of wearing such shoes, linen and hat, 
as he wishes, if he can procure them himself. From a number 
of trades, which are constantly prosecuted, one is found which 
he either knows already, or which is thought to be most adapted 
to his talents. This he is obliged to pursue, whether it be the 
last, the needle, iron work, or any other craft. If he refuses to 
labor, as it sometimes happens, the rebel is introduced into the 
dungeon — the only punishment in use — where he is left to chew 
the quid of reflection, sometimes for six or more weeks, on the 
antiphlogistic diet of bread and water, till his reverence for law 
and order has got the master of his contumacy. Submission to 
wholesome authority is almost the only growth, to which the 
dark, damp atmosphere of a dungeon is at all favorable ; but this 
12 



198 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

is in general quite certain to succeed with the help of the before- 
mentioned regimen. This cachot, as it is called, is a room about 
ten feet square, without furniture of any sort. Its hard oaken 
and polished floor suffices for chair, bed and table, having neither 
straw nor any other substance to mollify its surface of flint for 
the repose of weary bones. A small grated hole in the door, 
some three inches square, is the only aperture for light. 

A most sorry sight are these convicts, especially as I saw them 
on entering the court, where they were all together, spending their 
hour of recreation in promenading. As confinement here — with 
hard labor, and, in many cases for life — is the highest punish- 
ment, next to death, pronounced by the law ; I was of course 
surrounded with a very choice collection of miserable wretches. 
All persons are aware of the endless variety in human faces, 
though few rarely think of the cause; or perhaps, without 
troubling themselves much about it, carelessly take it for granted, 
that they are such as nature gave them. A grievous mistake, as 
it appears to me — for I look upon it in a more transcendental 
light — if it is not heresy to write the word. I deem the face to 
be the window, through which the spark of divinity shines out, 
that animates the man. The idiot is senseless, and accordingly 
his inexpressive features hang down with gross stupidity, giving 
notice to all, that the ethereal tenant is no longer there. More 
particularly still, a man's character may be very well read in his 
countenance ; and all the better for its being strongly marked. 
This is vastly preferable to feeling for it, like the phrenologists, 
through thick masses of hair lying unequally over the cranium. 
It is also much more convenient, natural, and useful. It might 
with good reason be expected, that men should be endowed with 
the ability to judge in some way of the qualities of one another, 
for self-defence, if for no other reason. Through what avenue 
so natural and easy could this important knowledge be trans- 
mitted, as that of sight, the channel of so large a proportion of 
our other information ? But if the precious intelligence must be 
derived — or not at all — by first making oneself master of another 
man's caput, how obviously may the revelation be withheld by 
merely defending the citadel from capture. In that case, the 



PHYSIOGNOMY. 199 



excellent direction in the cook-book for boiling a turbot, is in 
point, " first catch the fish !" On the contrary, if we have need 
in our intercourse with the world to know the real characters of 
those we meet, it is philosophical to infer, that the means afford- 
ed us to obtain the information will be adequate to that end. 
They must therefore be susceptible of rapid application, because 
the occasions for their use are sudden, unexpected, and often 
transitory. They will neither admit delay, nor submit to ma- 
chinery, which would be quite as much out of place, as a slate, 
and book of arithmetic to help one's reckoning in the market. 

But the muscles of the face, we know, are common to all, and 
give it its expression. Every man possessing similar muscles 
can express the same emotions, though nature seems in many 
instances to have been in a merry humor, when she put 
together some features that I wot of. These may be so fre- 
quently called into action by particular passions and emotions, as 
finally to stiffen into their permanent expression, like the corporal 
members of a Hindoo devotee. The cunning rogue and daring 
cut-throat cannot help hanging out upon their fronts infallible 
signals of what they are ; but yet they try to wear a mask, as 
natural as possible, to render that equivocal at least, which they 
cannot entirely conceal. Under these dubious colors multitudes 
in all the professions and crafts of life continue to sail along the 
stream, better in the fog than in the broad sun-light ; their 
actions contradicting their pretensions ; and both belieing their 
real characters and deceiving their patients, their flock, and their 
clients. But such " wolves in sheepskins" are not often very 
dangerous beyond a limited gullible circumference ; they are 
"known and read of all men" in the world outside of that 
charmed circle. We see in the wild Indian, who is uncontam- 
inated by his fatal scourge — the white man — unequivocal traits- 
of his real disposition playing on his copper countenance. 

The intention of this digression is to add a feature or two to 
the picture of the vicious men, who thronged around us in the 
court, in number about five hundred. Here were housebreakers, 
burglars, murderers, assassins, specimens in short of every shade 
of crime, that darkens the face of society. While the jailor left 



200 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

me alone to search for a key, I amused myself with the comfort- 
able reflection, that if one of these miscreants should happen to 
desire the diversion of striking me on the head, or stabbing me 
to the heart, what was there to restrain him from such an indul- 
gence ? Not fear certainly, if some people may be believed, 
whose humanity to the convict is cruelty to the victim ; for he is 
now condemned to the worst species and highest grade of punish- 
ment, in their opinion, within the rightful power of man to inflict 
— exclusion for life. I could read robber and cut-throat engrav- 
ed on the countenances of nearly all, as they passed me with 
scowls of anger or hatred, because I was free, and they them- 
selves were irrevocably chained. 

In the middle of the <;ourt was a fountain, where they were 
permitted to wash themselves ; and on one side a shop, where any, 
who had money, might buy better food, more comfortable shoes 
than the heavy wooden sabots given them by government, and 
even wine to drink ; but this is a limited quantity per diem. 
This money is the donation of friends allowed to visit them in 
the parloir, and bring with them such things as are not deemed 
injurious. The bread thus given is always cut up and thorough- 
ly examined, to see if it is really what it seems, lest any instru- 
ment be introduced with it to facilitate escape — an event here 
entirely unknown. 

The lower story is divided into several shops, where work of 
various sorts is done ; as shoemaking, tailoring, and such like. 
No labor is imposed so arduous as cutting stone, which is, how- 
ever, a very common one in American prisons. One branch of 
industry is particularly applicable to the Maitres d'Ecole, who 
may chance to find themselves scholars here, and that is, penmak- 
ing. A quill is cut into a pen, which is then separated from the 
stock, and a new pen made as before and cut off, till the quill is 
exhausted. These are nearly in the shape of steel pens, are in- 
tended to be fixed in handles as those are, and are much used by 
book-keepers and others. 

The food is similar to that in other prisons. The rooms are 
large, accommodating often twenty or thirty individuals. The 
linen is as clean as can be expected, when used by laboring men 



THE AMIABLE FELON. 201 

some thirty days. All who wish to attend church on the Sab- 
bath, are allowed to do so ; but few, as you may suppose, avail 
themselves of the privilege. 

Fights and quarrels are not unfrequent among the prisoners ; 
and even the officers occasionally get a blow over the head with 
a wooden sabot. The jailor informed me that several murders 
were committed but a short time ago. In one case, a man stab- 
bed another with a shoe knife in the side, and death ensued in 
two or three days. He was taken again to court, and tried ; but, 
it being proved that he was first attacked, he was left to work 
out his former sentence without addition. In another instance, 
where the same extenuation could not be alleged, a term of 
twenty years was extended for life. 

Prisoners are conveyed from here to the Navy Yards, in ve- 
hicles like omnibusses, to work out their terms, and, from what I 
have learnt, they have there nearly the same arrangements as in 
the prison. To stimulate them to more zealous activity, a quar- 
ter part of what they earn is given to them. Those who leave 
the institution have thus the means of commencing an honest 
life : and those who are confined for life, receive their wages in 
commodities to ameliorate the hardships of their condition, as 
linen, and similar comforts. This prison is said to support itself ; 
the labor of the convicts being sufficient to pay the expenses. 

It is here that those condemned to suffer death upon the guil- 
lotine are placed. I saw one such sitting in a court, separated 
from the rest. On one side of him was the guard ; on the other 
a jailor, who was reading to him a book. His arms were placed 
in a strait jacket, that he might not commit suicide. The jailor 
expressed considerable feeling in regard to this individual, re- 
marking, that they deem it an awful thing to hold a fellow-being 
awaiting a certain and ignominious death ! This is truly an 
amiable thought, especially considering its source. And there is 
not a bit of affectation in it, said I to myself, is there ? The 
philanthropic jailor further told me, " that the convict in question 
was a very clever fellow" although then under sentence, as I 
learnt, for killing his wife and two children ! 



XXXII. 

The Clinique — Nelaton — Midwifery — Paul Dubois — Hospital for 
Orphans — Sisters of Charity — Private Lecturers — Chassaignac 
— Cazeaux — Longet — Chailly — Breschet — Lamartine — His speech 

on the removal of napoleon's body rumor of his visit to this 

country — Manner of treating foreigners of distinction. 

Among the most remarkable of the Paris Hospitals is the 
Clinique. This is divided between two branches, one of surgery, 
under the care of M. Nelaton, a man of talent as a lecturer, and 
an excellent surgeon ; the other of midwifery. It is this latter 
which I call remarkable, but only because it is of a different char- 
acter from anything, that can be found in our own country. It is 
under the care of the most skilful accoucheur in Paris, Paul Du- 
bois. He has taken the responsible place which his father held 
before him, and has proved himself fully competent to fill it. 
He is a man of forty-five or fifty years of age, of medium height, 
and gentlemanly appearance. His mild blue eye is his most 
marked feature, and one that gives an expression of gentleness 
and kindness of heart, which his real character does not belie. 
His voice is soft and pleasing, and all his actions indicate a man 
not ostentatiously proud of a position, which he has attained by 
superior talents — a great contrast to the majority of the Paris 
medical men of eminence. In short, he is, to give him the high- 
est compliment that can be paid to any one in his station in 
France, — a gentleman ; and this implies more than wearing 
fine clothes — the definition of the word here. He speaks Eng- 
lish with facility, which makes his communications with Ameri- 
cans and English the more agreeable. To strangers he is 
extremely kind and obliging. To me, in an especial manner, he 
has been particularly attentive. Though coming hither a stran- 

202 



MIDWIFERY HOSPITALS. 203 

ger, without any letters or introduction to him, on merely stating, 
that my great object in visiting Paris was to devote myself to the 
branch, at the head of which he was, he immediately interested 
himself in my behalf, and gave me every advantage, which his 
large institution would afford. His great kindness I shall ever 
remember with the warmest gratitude. 

It is in this building, more than in any other in the city, that 
the great difference between the American and French woman is 
made apparent. Modesty is scarcely known to the women here. 
They speak of, and do, actions in public, which the Yankee girl, 
on oath, would scarcely allow that she had ever heard of. For 
this reason, among others, the midwifery hospitals in Paris are 
full. All students, who have studied a sufficient number of 
years, are admitted to the lying-in room. Whenever a female is 
in labor, a signal is placed at the door indicating the fact. All, 
who see the notice, enter. The first comer is the accoucheur under 
the direction of the resident sage-femme. Around the bed a railing 
keeps off the multitude, who often number fifty or more. I have 
seen the room crowded during the performance of such operations 
as are necessary. The patient is uncovered, as the labor advances, 
for the benefit of those around. How many of the very lowest 
classes in the United States would be thus willingly exposed ? 
Yet hither quite decent women are frequently brought. At the 
end of the usual time after delivery the woman leaves the hos- 
pital. Sometimes she takes her infant with her, but much more 
commonly she leaves it. The pitiful wages she can receive by 
her constant labor, do not suffice to support more than herself, 
and that very meagrely, with bread and water. She has no 
time to spend therefore in the care of an infant. These children 
are sent to the Hospital des infants Trouves ; the healthy are put 
out to nurse, but the weakly are protected as long as necessary. 
Women from the country apply at this institution for children to 
nurse, and receive from four to eight francs per month, in pro- 
portion to the age of the infant. The average number received 
annually at this establishment is about four thousand, some two 
hundred of whom are legitimate. The mortality is very great, 
one in three and a third dying. 



204 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

Connected with this is the Hospital for Orphans, one of the 
finest institutions in the city. They are taken, educated in the 
common branches, and, at a proper age, apprenticed to dif- 
ferent callings. Here also are received the children of the 
poor, who, taken sick, resort to a hospital ; during their 
illness their little ones are here protected, to be restored, when 
health shall again permit. Both these institutions are under 
the care of those most excellent women, the Sisters of Char- 
ity. I have already spoken of them, but it was then from 
a slight knowledge of their character. A more thorough ac- 
quaintance with them and their duties has given me new reason 
to pronounce most decidedly in their favor. Their incessant vigil- 
ance and tenderness for the sick and suffering, their utter disre- 
gard of themselves and their own comfort, are worthy of exalted 
praise. They have left all, that the world regards, behind them ; 
they have discarded the forms of dress, and devoted their for- 
tunes, talents, their all, to the care of these unfortunates. The 
world is always loud in the praise of a daughter, who, disregard- 
ing self, watches devotedly at the bedside of a sick mother. But 
these sisters have no ties of blood which draw them to the dying 
pillows of these poor creatures. Their characters are beyond 
praise, their lives above reproach. The contrast of their black 
robes with the snowy whiteness of their uncouth caps is not more 
striking, than the opposition of their lives to those of the world 
around them. With their beads and cross hanging from one side 
of their waist, and their bunches of keys on the other, they go 
from bed to bed, on their silent errand of mercy, moistening the 
parched lips of one, whispering words of peace to another, al- 
ways calm and composed, ever ready, ever present ; with a 
gentleness that awes the quarrelsome, and persuades the peevish 
and fretful ; asking, looking for nothing from man, and seeking 
only a crown of immortality in a world beyond the grave. A 
memorable confession of their excellence is recorded in the fact, 
that during the horrors of the revolution, which enveloped all 
classes with unsparing impartiality, this society alone remained 
untouched. The brutal mob acknowledged its celestial agency, 
and bowed with reverence. Napoleon, who swept away the 



PRIVATE LECTURERS. 205 

various religious orders, and broke open the convents and nun- 
neries, forbore to lay his regenerating hand on this alone. Had 
the society of Jesus been composed of such materials, they would 
have been more worthy of the divine name, which they assumed. 
Men would have respected and venerated them, confessed the 
justice of their designation, and hailed their order as one of 
heaven's best gifts to man. Instead of this, they are univers- 
ally despised and condemned, even their sacred patronymic is 
turned into a by-word ; and Jesuitism now expresses that dan- 
gerous compound of priestly hypocrisy, political craft and Machi- 
avelism, that wanted a name, till the followers of Loyola in- 
vested it with their own. 

In attending these hospitals and the lectures delivered at the 
School of Medicine consists the study of the French student. But 
the American and foreigners generally, have not time to avail 
themselves of these public lectures ; for the course on one branch 
alone is often protracted through three or four years. These are 
also delivered with a particularity and verbosity quite unnecessary 
to him who is generally well advanced in his medical education. 
He comes hither with all that the schools of the United States 
can give him, or at least is expected to be thus prepared. He 
does not therefore wish to commence with elementary principles, 
but to continue, and push still further his investigations of his 
favorite science. A class of men have consequently sprung up 
to satisfy this want, to whom they resort. These are persons 
who are not professors in the school, but are waiting for a 
vacancy in the expectation of becoming so. They are generally 
individuals, who have devoted themselves to one branch of study, 
and when perfect masters of it, give lectures to private classes. 
This they do for several reasons — to acquire reputation among 
medical men, and with the public, who see their notices posted 
at the corners of streets, and are apprized of their pretensions in 
other ways. Not unfrequently, the gratuity received from every 
pupil is a considerable motive. This varies with the expense of 
the experiments introduced, the reputation of the man, and other 
disturbing considerations, but, as a general thing, five dollars 
constitute the fee for each pupil for one course of three lessons a 
12* 



OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



week during six weeks. Several deliver public lectures with a 
view to facilitate the sale of works, which they have published. 
These men are often quite distinguished. Chassaignac and 
Cazeaux are Agreges to the Faculty— a situation of no easy at- 
tainment. The latter is author of a work on Midwifery of 
standard worth. His lectures are thronged with American, 
English and German scholars. Chassaignac, who is eminent as 
a surgeon, gives a course on surgical operations, in which he re- 
quires his pupils to perform every operation several times. 
Chailly, whose work from a translation the American well knows, 
gives a public course on Midwifery, which I have heard with 
great profit. His hall is always crowded. Though enthusiastic, 
he is not so pleasant a lecturer, as his rival just mentioned. 

Among the most interesting lectures at present are those by 
Longet, member of the Royal Academy of Physicians, on the 
functions of the brain and nerves, especially his course with vivi- 
sections. In these he gives his scholars ocular demonstration of 
the various functions with a minuteness not dreamt of a few 
years ago. However satisfactory to the student, the fact cannot 
be disguised, that operations on live animals are cruel in the 
extreme ; but, after Alfort, one gets to bearing them without much 
sentimentality, especially when re-assured by the reflection, that 
science is thereby advancing. Beside these, there are many 
others, who in this way are at the same time getting money and 
a name, and fitting themselves for public lecturers in the School 
of Medicine. 

Within a few days the distinguished Breschet, the professor 
of Anatomy, has died. His funeral was attended by many friends, 
and by delegations from various societies, of which he was a 
member. His place will be strongly contended for in public 
concours, of which I have already given an account. His death 
too leaves an arm chair vacant in the Institute. The winner of the 
professorship will make sworn enemies of all his competitors ; and 
the successful candidate for the arm chair will realize his own 
brilliant hopes, but cause those of many others to be suddenly 
blighted. Speaking of this society, it is rumored, that one of its 
shining members is shortly to make a visit to the United States ; 



LAMARTINE. 207 



I mean Lamartine, the great poet and orator of France, now a 
member of the Chamber of Deputies. This eminent man is no 
mercenary reporter, travelling beyond his vocation — sutor ultra 
crepidam — to procure materials from kindness abused, and atten- 
tions misplaced, for the purpose of manufacturing a book on his 
return to pay the expenses of an egotistical tour, and make a 
small dividend among uneasy creditors at home. A very differ- 
ent personage from this, he possesses a well earned fame and lofty 
station. Is it too much to hope, that the sovereign people will 
succeed for once in governing themselves, and obtain as much 
credit far the treatment of a noble friend, who shall come among 
them, as they would be sure to do for that of an enemy, who 
should land upon their shores? An individual of real worth 
and dignity likes very well laudari a viro laudato; but everv 
man is not a caricaturist, and would not be flattered by monkey 
tricks and exhibitions, whose apparent design was quite as much 
to gratify the vanity of the host, as to honor the guest, and some- 
times, if there indeed has been any honor at all, it has not been 
easy to see, which party has received the most of it. My 
countrymen are quite too serious a race, and are charged with 
duties pressing much too heavily to allow them time to run after 
opera dancers, Vespuccis no better than they should be, or penny- 
a-line writers. 

We bespeak for Lamartine a warm reception, kind feelings, and 
no absurdities. Republican in his principles, he is a friend of the 
people. An ardent admirer of Washington and Lafayette, one 
of his noblest speeches had their praises for its object. Read a 
portion of his speech on the disinterment of Napoleon, which 
filled the chamber of deputies with astonishment at its beauty, 
when delivered. ** If this great general had been a great man, 
an irreproachable citizen, if he had been the Washington of 
Europe ; if, after having defended the country, intimidated the 
contra revolution without, he had regulated, moderated, and organ- 
ized the liberal institutions and the advancement of democracy 
in France, &c. &c. ; — if he had retired, like Solon, or as the 
legislator of America ; if he had withdrawn, in his disinterest- 



208 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

edness and glory, to leave his place to liberty; who knows, 
if all that homage of the multitude, who adore that, which 
oppressed them, would be rendered to him. . Who knows, if he 
would not have slept more tranquilly, and perhaps more neglected, 
in his tomb ? 

"Lafayette, who recalled to you in 1830 the opinions of '89, 
as fresh, as untouched, as disinterested, as ineffaceable, as when 
he first drew them from the fountain-head in the soul of his 
friend Washington; Lafayette reposes under the humble cross 
of a family tomb, and the man of the 18th Brumaire, the man to 
whom France owes all, except her liberty, the revolution triumph- 
ant goes to seek beyond the seas — to make for him an imperial 
tomb ! The revolution triumphant ! I ask, if upon the soil ..of 
France she has a monument sufficiently grand, sufficiently holy, 
sufficiently national to contain him ? 

" Where then place him ? At the Arc de triomphe de VEtoile ? 
It is too heathen. The dead is sacred, and his asylum should 
be religious. And besides, what think you ! if in the future, as 
we ought to hope, new triumphs shall await us, what triumpheur, 
what general would ever dare to pass by that spot ? This would 
be to interdict the Arch of Triumph ; this would be to close this 
door of national glory, which ought ever to remain open to our 
future destinies ! 

" But be it, that you choose St. Denis, or the Pantheon, or the 
Invalides, remember to inscribe on the monument, where he ought 
to be at the same time, soldier, consul, legislator, emperor. Re- 
member to write there the only inscription which responds, at 
the same time, to your enthusiasm and your prudence, the only 
inscription which ought to be made for this unique man, and for 
the difficult epoch in which you live : a napoleon — seul. 

" These three words, attesting that his military genius has not 
an equal ; attest, at the same time, to France, Europe and the 
world, that if this generous nation knows how to honor great 
men, she knows also how to judge them ; she knows also how to 
distinguish their varieties, and those who threaten her in their 
name ; and that in erecting this monument, and there embalming 



NATIONAL HOSPITALITY. 209 

this great recollection, she does not wish from these ashes to 
resuscitate either war, or tyranny, or legitimacy, or pretenders, 
or even imitators." 

The chamber was carried away with enthusiasm on hearing 
with what happiness he distinguished the part of glory and that 
of liberty. This is the sort of man, who is to visit a free country. 
One, whose principles are "Liberty for all, and in all things. 
A Government strong, but liberal. The people, the origin and 
end of all political action. Opinion coming from them and 
returning to them." No longer young, he goes to America with 
a mind strengthened, a vision corrected, a judgment matured by 
years and experience. Born in 1790, he has lived through 
scenes which tried men's souls. A traveller in his own country, 
Asia and Africa, he has learnt that each nation has its good 
qualities, and therefore does not condemn, as vile and uncivilized, 
everything which differs from the habits and customs of his own. 
No fear but he will have a welcome in the country where his 
friend Lafayette's memory will ever live ; but in his reception, it 
is desirable, that no ridiculous extravagance should make the 
world imagine, that men of intellect are rarce aves in terris, and 
that the appearance of a great man in the United States is as an 
extraordinary an event, as that of Gulliver among the natives of 
Lilliput ; let them rather show they are accustomed to them, 
and know how to practise the rites of hospitality with decorum 
and respect. 



XXXIII. 

Spring — French Mothers and Children — Squares in Paris — Their 
great Utility — Thalberg — His Concert — Motion not Music — Spon- 
tini. the Composer. 

This letter, though bearing a reoent date, was begun, you 
perceive, a long while ago, and runs through a considerable space 
of time. In truth, it was a kind of receptacle — Chiffonier's bag, 
if you please — like some others which I have sent you, into 
which odds and ends were thrown for private use, or the amuse- 
ment of friends. 

When I wrote to you in March, all was cold, uncomfortable, 
cheerless. If the sun ever showed his face, we took it as a par- 
ticular favor, just as we do, when a beauty puts aside her veil 
for the express purpose of imparting those delicious smiles and 
glances, which are of no sort of use whatever to their possessor, 
but are known to yield great comfort to quite a large proportion 
of mankind. Now, delightful spring, thou art come in thy 
beauty, and never hast thou been more welcome ! Not a cloud 
has dimmed the heavens for several days ; all is bright and gay 
and animating. One can feel with the poet : — 

Oh ! qu'apres de rudes tempetes 

II est agreable de voir, 

Que les aquilons sans pouvoir 

N'osent plus grander sur nos tetes ! 
Que le repos est doux apres de longs travaux ! 
Qu'on aime le plaisir, qui suit beaucoup de maux ! 
Qu' apres un long hiver le printemps a de charmes ! 

Ladies — beautiful birds — begin to promenade the streets. But 
one swallow doth not make a summer. The trees and shrubbery 
in the gardens are evidently thinking of putting on their green 
dresses, and their swollen buds foretell new charms. 

210 



FRENCH MOTHERS AND CHILDREN. 211 

Louis Philippe's revenue, derived from the letting of chairs in 
the public gardens, is just commencing. — Yesterday (April 2,) 
as I passed through the Tuilleries, I noticed that they were 
nearly all full. Into this garden all persons in soiled garbs, or 
carrying packages, are prevented from intruding, and in their 
places are nurses and mothers with their infants and young chil- 
dren. Here they drive hoop and play with the ball, battledore 
and shuttlecock, and stretch their little limbs in other pleasant 
pastimes. The French are much more sensible in this matter, 
than the Yankees, as all Americans are designated. They are 
not afraid to give their children a breath of fresh air : — 
II n ? est rien de si doux que l'air qu'on y respire. 
Instead of putting the lively wee creatures into a cradle, and 
packing them up like mummies in thick cloth, which compels them 
to breathe a second time the air contaminated by the first inspira- 
tion, they take them into the gardens and promenade with them. If 
sleepy, they repose sweetly in their arms, and respire an atmo- 
sphere, as pure and uncontaminated, as can be found within the 
limits of a city. It is far from easy to rouse a community to an 
adequate comprehension of the inestimable value of anything so 
very common, as air or water. The city of Boston, among others, 
is an example of the latter. New- York, to her imperishable honor, 
has proved, that this vis inertice is not invincible. Dum alii verba 
incassum fundebant, opus est actum. If the cost has been more 
than was predicted, the utility will not be less ; and the money, 
after having circulated through the arteries of the State, will be 
returned by its thousand veins to the heart again in proper time, 
after giving growth in its progress, to the noble Croton Aqueduct. 
But, in Paris, the very air itself is a matter of deep concern ; 
the government, with that wise, paternal care, which is exerted 
generally for the benefit of the whole, constructs public gardens, 
and lays out squares and places in the very heart of the city. 
This is not, as one at first would be apt to imagine, to add to its 
beauty merely, and form convenient resorts for promenade or 
business. Whatever attention may be bestowed on the embel- 
ishment of the city with monuments and fountains in the centre 
of these hundred squares, the main design of their construction 



212 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

is never out of sight. Ventilation is the principal aim — health 
the first object to be attained. After this, the beautifying of the 
city, and giving objects to be viewed by the people, adapted to 
excite feelings of bravery and pride in the deeds of the past, and 
hopeful sentiments of patriotism and courage in the future, are 
not neglected ; for these help to agitate and purify the atmosphere 
of the soul. 

Since this was written, I have been to a concert of no ordinary 
character. The first in his profession ! What a magical phrase ! 
I feel an involuntary reverence for any one, to whom these words 
can be justly applied. I went yesterday with a friend to the 
shop of a cobbler. " This man," said he, " is the first cobbler in 
Paris. He is an artist of great fame, and will incorporate a 
patch with a boot so ingeniously, as to be invisible almost to the 
eye ; he is a man of genius." Do you suppose I passed by this 
individual as an ordinary man, because his vocation happened to 
be patching old boots and shoes? By no means truly. I 
studied his appearance, his features, his character. I meditated 
whether his talents and perseverance, if turned into another 
direction, might not have produced another Raphael or Michael 
Angelo. With impressions akin to these I saw Thalberg — the 
great composer — the greater performer — the prince of the piano ; 
and never prince had more absolute sway. What shall I say of 
him ? What words can express the pleasure I enjoyed ? To be 
sure, I did not in the manner of many around me, go into a 
hysteric fit — jump up — sit down — writhe with ecstasy — laugh — 
crv — scream, all at once. No, I sat still, behaving decently, but 
for all that, not the less pleased, excited, transported. I begin 
to believe the fable of the old ages, when a musician made no- 
thing of drawing after him rocks and trees. Thalberg's talent 
is little less ; for he draws houses. The pieces, which he played 
this evening, were all his late productions, and have not as yet, I 
presume, been published in the United States. They were two 
fantasias from movements in the operas La Muette de Portice and 
Don Pasquale — a funeral march with variations- — a barcarolle, 
both his compositions, and a capricio of his on several airs in the 
Barbier de Seville. Of these pieces I will say nothing, except 



THALBERG. 213 



that they are very beautiful and very difficult, two qualities which 
many know, are by no means novelties in his compositions. It is 
the man I wish to set before you. 'Twas an evening concert, 
commencing at half-past eight o'clock; the doors opening an 
hour before. The tickets were all sold more than a week before- 
hand. At seven o'clock I was waiting at the door for entrance. 
Being determined to secure an eligible seat in the pit — it costs a 
6mall fortune to a constant frequenter always to sit elsewhere ; 
and the high prices, even there, guarantying its respectability. — 
I was there in good season, and took a position near the head of 
the queue. In a very short time after, there were a hundred be- 
hind me. But the guards preserved the utmost order, as usual. 
For one half hour I stood there, and then waited an hour in the 
house, before the performance commenced. But without count- 
ing six francs for the ticket, it costs something, you perceive, to 
go to a concert, or theatre. Eveiy seat in the beautiful salle of 
the Italian Opera House was occupied. On the stage also were 
placed in chairs some hundred and fifty. The orchestra was 
partly boarded over, and here the grand piano was placed. 

Has the king deigned to enter, that such enthusiastic applauses 
are ringing around the theatre ? Yes, it is the king — but not of 
the French. It is the great descendant of Apollo. And, along 
with his powers of music, he inherits a portion of his beauty. 
He is a person of good size and figure, but not large. His ap- 
pearance is modest and extremely prepossessing. Owing to the 
distance at which I sat, I would not wish to describe his air and 
person minutely. It is, however, perfectly apparent, that his 
complexion is light, his hair brown, his nose aquiline — without 
whiskers or mustache — and that he has probably completed, so 
far as a judgment could be formed by fallacious gas-light, his 
fifth climacteric. After numerous bows in return for the plaudits 
that welcomed his approach, he sat down at the piano, and ran 
his fingers carelessly over the keys — surely that is no common 
instrument ! The tones, which follow his negligent touch, are 
not like any sounds that I have ever heard before. The subject 
is far beyond my pen. Mrs. Child must hear him, and, shutting 
her eyes to the gross creation about her, open them on the celes- 



214 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

tial world and the thousand harpers. The wildest frenzy of an 
imaginative mind would not, however, approximate the reality, 
which was here to be actually seen and heard. I have examined 
with infinite delight a great variety of machines, from the tiniest 
horologe through all the gradations of grace and strength up to 
the mighty engines, which propel the Atlantic steamers through 
a stormy ocean, and fill the beholder with wonder and awe — and 
some of them seem almost to have borrowed inspiration from 
above — yet I feel that nothing, among all the highest works of 
man, can be brought into comparison for a moment with the 
creations of the Almighty. Man originates no power, and in his 
grandest operations simply avails himself of the latent energies of 
water and the electric fluid. " The greatest piece of mechanism 
is the human hand," which, actuated by the propelling agency 
of the will, regulated by persevering practice and directed by 
genius, far surpasses all human inventions. This remark never 
appeared so striking, as while I listened to the astonishing exem- 
plification of its power, which was going on in my presence this 
evening. 

With Thalberg every thing is calm, collected— no grimaces, 
no writhings of the body. A furor was excited some two years 
ago in the United States by a second or third rate artist, called 

Miss S . Every body was in raptures. Her houses were 

crowded — old men and women put on their spectacles — what 
for ? To see music ? Not exactly — but to see her efforts, the 
movements of her body, forward and back, sidewise, otherwise, 
and rotatory. To see the smiles, which opened so many dimples 
in her face, as to resemble small-pox marks ; to see the self-com- 
placent air, with which she threw up her white and well-formed 
" pieces of mechanism," and turned upon her music stool to receive 
the overwhelming plaudits of the first and second childhoods pres- 
ent, who exclaimed, — " Only see how she plays !" But Thalberg 
is quiet and still. Not a muscle in his countenance is disturbed 
— not an unnecessary motion of his body occurs. Nothing 
escapes to show the difficulties he is surmounting. A person, 
ignorant of music, might imagine, that all is simple and easy, as 
a game of the Graces. 



SPONTINI. 215 



At the close of the concert, the call for him was unanimous ; 
and, in obedience to it, he came forward, while the room was 
ringing with cries for his celebrated fantasia on a movement in 
Moses in Egypt — the funeral march, and other pieces — each one 
asking for his own favorite. He played one of them, and his first 
and last concert in Paris this season was ended. 

There was a very ugly man present. He had a pug nose 
stuck upon the front of his face, an immense mouth, black hair, 
black eyes, sunk deeply in his head, and a head deeply sunk in a 
white cravat. He is gazing at everybody in the house through 
the medium of a large opera glass. Who is he, do you ask ? — 
Why it is Spontini, the great composer, He has recently receiv- 
ed the order of conferred upon him and Mendelsohn — I 

think the name is spelt so— by the king of Belgium. 



XXXIV. 

Coste on Embryology — Party at Mr. D.'s — Donne's Lectures on the 
Circulation of the Blood — Oxygen and Hydrogen Microscope — 
Photo-Electric Microscope — English Episcopal Church — Palais 
Koyal — Healy, the Painter — Veterinary School — Scientific 
Cruelty to Horses. 

Yesterday I commenced attending a course of lectures on 
Embryology, by M. Coste, which was begun a day or two ago. 
Notwithstanding a violent rain, among the company assembled 
in the lecture room in the College of France, was quite a number 
of women. This college enrols among its professors some of the 
most eminent men ; among them, Guizot, the present minister, 
and Villemain, till very lately, minister of public instruction. 
Villemain is at the head of the anti- Jesuit party, and has been 
troubled of late with a disease which has paralyzed, if not de- 
stroyed, his faculties. The Jesuits have seized the occasion in 
their instructions to their young children, to declare that " God 
was angry with this party, and had stricken their head with a 
grievous malady." 

The evening when the preceding letter was written, I went to 

a party at Mr. D r's. It was a small assembly of Americans, 

with the exception of one or two English, and I have not enjoyed 
myself less, I am sure, at any one this winter. The unsocial 
habits of the Yankees cling to them like purse-pride to a rich 
man, and are almost as disagreeable. How preposterous to allow 
a previous unacquaintance to fasten a padlock on every mouth ! 
Have they not been requested to come together for the very 
purpose of making that acquaintance ? But he has not been in- 
troduced. Is it so? Did not Mr. D., for example, give a 
general introduction and certificate of good character to all his 

216 



DONNE'S LECTURES. 217 

company, when he issued his letters of invitation, and admitted 
them to his drawing-room ? Had the company been French, I 
should have been certain to pass a charming evening. Away with 
this frigid reserve, by which hearts can never be united, unless by 
freezing together. It is neither Christian, politic, nor polite. 
These icy manners not only impair the happiness of all within 
their atmosphere, but induce a reaction — ay, they recoil and con- 
geal the heart's blood of the cold formalist who fosters them. I 
have no desire to mingle in American circles, and probably shall 
not hereafter, as my sojourn here is drawing to a close, and the 
visiting season is over. There is no lack of business to occupy all 
my time. My daily augmenting knowledge of the advantages of 
Paris suggests a thousand things to be performed. My days are 
occupied with lectures of various kinds, my nights with study, 
writing, and visiting my French friends. 

Among the lectures, there was one given by Mons. Donne, at 
the College of France. It was rather a supplementary lecture, 
illustrating some previous ones, which he delivers in the day. 
The experiments he made, were intended to show the circulation 
of the blood, and they succeeded capitally. The object was ac- 
complished by means of an instrument, called the oxy-hydrogen 
microscope. It is a species of magic-lantern. The light, which 
is intense, is produced by the ignition of a piece of charcoal, and 
directing upon it jets of oxygen and hydrogen. The objects to 
be viewed are then placed in a proper situation, and their reflec- 
tion, highly magnified with a powerful microscope, is thrown 
upon a white field. The disc was nearly three feet in diameter. 
The tongue of a frog, exposed in this manner, was shown so 
perfectly, that every vein and artery were distinctly visible, and 
also the minute follicles upon it. Another exhibition was the 
tongue of a live frog. The blood could be plainly seen rushing 
through the veins with great rapidity, and a great deal swifter in 
the arteries. This, too, proved conclusively, that the blood is 
formed of minute globules ; for in the large veins, they could be 
observed rolling over one another, and tumbling along like the 
waves of a river. Many of the veins were of so small a size, 
that one of these globules was too large to pass with ease, and 
13 



SIS OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

for two at a time, a passage was utterly impossible. The feet of 
flies, their probosces, wings and other parts, lice and similar 
insects, were shown in this way. The colors of a butterfly's 
wing were perfectly displayed, and with exquisite beauty. He 
has just begun his course, and I intend to follow him regularly 
in future. 

The Photo Electric Microscope is a new instrument, at least to 
me. It is somewhat on the same plan, as the oxy-hydrogen mi- 
croscope, a description of the action of which has been just given. 
In this instrument light is produced not by two gases, but by 
burning a piece of charcoal with a galvanic battery, composed of 
alternate plates of zinc and charcoal, which is much more power- 
ful, than the usual battery of zinc and copper. 

I went to another of Coste's lectures to-day, and wish that you 
could hear him. Modesty must never stand in the way of science, 
and, for the sake of listening to this celebrated man, one might be 
excused for overlooking the many natural and unavoidable indeli- 
cacies, connected with the subject of his investigations. It does 
seem queer though, even in France, to see women attending his 
lectures with remarkable regularity. 

Sunday evening. For the first time, since I have been in 
Paris, I have been to church, that is, a dissenting church ; and I 
think most probably, that it will be the last. This church is the 
English Episcopal, and the bishop of Paris is the officiating cler- 
gyman. On arriving there, I found, in order to obtain admit- 
tance, that it was necessary to buy a ticket. This I thought 
was strange. However I paid my franc — the price nearly of a 
seat in the pit of a theatre-^and gave my ticket to a door-keeper 
sort of person, who pointed me to a seat. Were I to live in Paris, 
and had no other choice, I should certainly worship with the Cath- 
olic in preference to the Episcopalian, for more reasons than one„ 
They get but few converts, I think, at that price. I heard pray- 
ers read with a languishment most efficacious in putting half the 
audience to sleep. The sermon, which, if a "boughten one," 
must have been cheap, succeeded in procuring repose for the 
remaining portion of the assembly, with the exception of many 
impenetrable people, who were continually going out, during the 



HEALY, THE PAINTER. 219 

whole service of two hours and a half, to the number, I suppose, 
of forty at least. This I should have done myself, but, in the 
spirit of yankeedom, I was resolved to get the value of the con- 
sideration stipulated in the bargain at the door. 

After this unpleasant episode, I was fain, in order to recover my 
good humor, to go to the Palais Royal, which is opened on Sun- 
days only, for the inspection of strangers with passports, and na- 
tives with billets or tickets. This edifice is remarkable more for 
the events that have occurred within its walls, than for any thing 
it now contains. It possesses however some fine pictures, which 
amply repay examination. The most curious article is a table — 
about the size of our card-tables, when shut — the top of which, 
on a careless observation, would seem to be of marble. A delib- 
erate inquisition discovers it to be formed of petrified wood. 

The Louvre, in addition to many of the works of the old mas- 
ters, contains, as is well known, those of living artists, deposited 
for inspection, A similar exhibition is made during two or three 
months every year. Among them is an excellent portrait of our 
minister to this court, Mr. King of Alabama, painted by Healy, 
of Boston, Massachusetts. The likeness is admirable ; no one 
can see it without being struck with its fidelity. Mr. Healy's 
reputation has extended to the throne, and the king pays a deli- 
cate compliment, at once to our countrymen and our country, in 
commissioning him to present to him on canvas the features of 
some of our most distinguished citizens. 

From time to time I have remarked upon some of the valuable 
public institutions with which France abounds. One of them is 
the Veterinary School at Alfort. There are two others at Lyons 
and Toulouse. Though this one at Alfort has less land and 
smaller accommodations than the others, it is their equal in the 
number of pupils and patients. The former are limited to three 
hundred between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five. The fee is 
three hundred and sixty francs per annum. Forty are placed 
there by the minister of war, and are destined for the depart- 
ment of cavalry. Qualifications for entrance consist in a know- 
ledge of reading, writing, arithmetic, grammar, and smith's work. 
The regulations are rigid in the extreme ; indeed the pupils are 



220 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

almost under military discipline. They are compelled to rise at 
five o'clock — six in winter — go to bed at nine, wear a regular 
uniform, &c. Permission to leave the yard is obtained but sel- 
dom ; one detected in scaling the walls and going to the city, 
or elsewhere, is punished by expulsion. A common penalty is 
solitary confinement for two or more days. The young man 
who conducted us round the premises, showed us the swine that 
were fed on the flesh of the dead horses, that had been killed 
there ; and complained, that the government was trying an ex- 
periment upon them ; to me, the experiment appeared to be tried 
upon the pupils. For these creatures, after being fattened thus 
on animals diseased, were afterwards served up for the dinners 
of the students. As yet, he stated, no ill result had followed, 
the stomach having proved to be an alembic, where the gastric 
juices removed infectious qualities. I forbore some remarks, 
which were rising to my tongue, from a tender respect to the 
dinner, on which he was to regale that day. 

The appearance of these young men was very prepossess- 
ing ; infinitely superior to that of the French students, who fre- 
quent the Paris hospitals. When they enter the army, they be- 
come under-officers, and the chief veterinary surgeon ranks with 
lieutenants. The last is a recent advantage obtained with very 
great difficulty, having been most strenuously opposed in the 
House of Peers. The course of study requires a period of four 
years for its completion. The patients are horses, dogs, and 
horned animals. These are visited every morning by the 
physician attended by the students. The stables are perfectly 
clean, neat, and ornamented with bright brass. In one of them 
I saw a case of pneumonia. At the indication of the physician, 
we ausculted the beast, and heard distinctly the subcrepitant rale. 
It was the first time I ever thought of thus examining a horse. 
Everything is on the same scientific plan. The anatomy of that 
animal has almost the same nomenclature, as the human. 
Twelve pupils serve as night- watchers of these creatures, and 
receive all that may come, having fractures, colics, or any other 
disease. Among other curiosities there was^ a dog afflicted with 
chorea, or St. Vitus's dance, and a cow with phthisis. Dogs pay 



THE VETERINARY SCHOOL. 221 

ten cents a day, and horses fifty, for medical attendance and 
nourishment. In the operation of " nicking" horses, instead of 
making numerous sections of the muscle on the inside of the tail, 
as is practised by the English and Americans, the French remove 
the muscle entirely. 

There is a fine Anatomical Cabinet, which well repays a lover 
of Comparative Anatomy ; beside one of Pathological Anatomy, 
exhibiting specimens of calculi, ostea-sarcoma and other maladies. 

Thus far I have mentioned portions of the establishment, which 
may be considered interesting and agreeable to all. But there is 
another department, which does not possess this recommendation, 
and though a very useful feature in the institution certainly, I 
can scarcely dare to say, that it is necessary. I refer to the 
operations, that are made upon the living animals. I will give 
you some description of them, and if it shocks your feelings, and 
makes your blood run cold, my justification is, that such things 
are, and should be told and known. Let the authors of fictitious 
cruelties answer for their loathsome delineations, whose immedi- 
ate tendency is to harrow up the sensibilities of the soul, make the 
reader wretched for the time, and afterwards callous to real suf- 
fering, and all for what ? Would you believe it ? — for amuse- 
ment ! 

The government provides poor old worn out horses for the use 
of the students, to accustom them to operate, and give them fa- 
cility of execution. The unhappy creature is led in, snorting and 
trembling, at the sight of and smell of blood around. Before he 
has time to recover from his amazement, his legs are drawn firmly 
together, and he is thrown to the ground. A rope is twisted 
with a stick around his upper lip, so that his head is perfectly 
commanded. He lies prostrate and powerless. A dozen pupils 
leap upon him, and begin their horrid operations. With red hot 
iron his skin is cauterized in every part of the body, where the 
cautery is ever applied. One cuts off two inches of the tail, a 
second two more, another takes out the muscle, and a fourth a 
bone, till that member is entirely gone. Every variety of shoe is 
put upon him, his hoofs are cut to the quick, experimental nails 
are driven in, as if they were accidental, and dug out again. 
13* 



222 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 

Imaginary wounds are probed. The ears are then cut out, the 
eyes extracted. Every artery in the body is " taken up," opera- 
tions for tenotomy performed, beside many other acts of refined 
scientific torture. In the meantime, the poor helpless animal 
struggles and flounders, sighs, weeps, groans, screams. He can- 
not move. The blood oozes from a hundred orifices, " those 
poor dumb mouths," till finally death, the angel of mercy to the 
miserable among men and beasts, comes to his relief : — 

" And th' o'erloaded slave flings down his burden 
From his gall'd shoulders, and, when the cruel tyrant, 
With all his imps, and tools of torture round him, 
Is meditating new, unheard-of hardships ; 
Mocks his short arm — and, quick as thought, escapes, 
Where tyrants vex not, where the weary are at rest." 

Who would be an omnibus horse ? A fair retort is, who would 
be a man ? Ay, there have been men, remember that ! and 
thousands of them too, who have inflicted worse torments than 
these even on their fellow men. Is it possible ? And what for ? 
For religious and political creeds — because they differed in opinion, 
that's all ! 

In this way a dozen horses are sacrificed twice a week ; — yes, 
for years — twice a week — from five in the morning till five in the 
evening, this dreadful butchery is going on. What think you of 
the "Chourineur" in the Mysteries of Paris? "Truth is 
stranger than fiction " — no news to me, I assure you. Horses 
with glanders are more fortunate. They are killed immediately. 
No operations are performed upon them now from fear, one of 
the pupils having died last year of this as yet incurable disease, 
contracted in his experiments. 



XXXV. 

Comparison of the Parisian and American Prisons — Society for the 
Aid of Boys quitting the Houses of Correction — Society for the 
Aid of Abandoned Girls leaving the House of Correction. 

Having completed my intended description of the various pri- 
sons of the city where vice is prevalent to such an extent, though 
the account has been already too minute perhaps, you must 
allow me to make a comparison, in a few particulars at least, be- 
tween them and those in my own country. In a new region, 
where multitudes of institutions are yet to be erected, the most 
minute and apparently insignificant points of information may 
have a value ; and on this account a review, however superficial, 
of a few circumstances connected with this great subject, may 
not be out of place. 

The well-being of society demands, that means shall be adopt- 
ed to separate its good elements from the bad ; but humanity at 
the same time requires that the measures resorted to should be 
as lenient as possible, consistent with security. Another thing is 
not to be neglected. All the bitter dregs must not be strained 
out of the cup of the delinquent ; his condition must not be ren- 
dered almost if not quite enviable to the destitute innocent man, 
who has not qualified himself by crime to taste the comforts, 
which sometimes surround the convict. Yet this has taken place, 
where charity has mistaken her vocation, and left her proper 
sphere to feed the criminal with luxuries beyond the power of 
the honest laborer. 

In point of strength there can be little difference between the 
prisons of Paris and our own. The former are' universally con- 
structed of stone, but ours have the advantage of them in firm- 
ness of material, as nothing is quite equal to the everlasting gra- 

223 



224 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

nite, of which the American structures are principally composed. 
The security of prisoners is perfectly well guarantied by nume- 
rous doors and intricate passages, by walls surrounding many of 
them, and by numberless sentinels, which the vast military force, 
now idle, enables the French Government to maintain. Escape 
is absolutely impossible without corruption on the part of the 
sentinels or jailers. The walls are much loftier than those of 
similar institutions in the United States, and a long ladder would 
be requisite to scale them ; ours, on the contrary, may be sur- 
mounted by the help of two or three barrels placed on one an- 
other, or any similar contrivance. A great defect noticed in the 
general construction of the buildings here lies in the manner of 
fastening the cells ; each one requiring to be separately locked. 
They are fastened by a bolt and a lock : and in some of them, 
for example, in the Maison Centrale d' Education Correctionelle, a 
long entry traverses its entire length ; and into this all the doors 
open. To fasten them is the duty of three men. One shoves 
the bolt ; another arranges a bolt connected with the lock, which 
consists of another bolt, a part of which enters into the door lock, 
like the hasp of the lock of a trunk. The third man turns the key. 
The means of securing the cell doors employed in the United 
States are much preferable, consisting of a single bar of iron 
running through the whole range of cells, which it fastens by one 
operation. Beside the superior expedition of this process, the 
security too is greater, because this bolt cannot be moved, unless 
every door is shut. But here, in the hurry of locking up, a door 
might be accidentally omitted. The long bar therefore might su- 
persede with advantage the use of separate bolts, which however 
are generally sufficient to secure the prisoner with all necessary 
safety. 

Less regard to neatness and ventilation is seen within the prisons 
here than in America. The entry walls and floors, being of 
brown stone, easily conceal the dust and cobwebs, that adhere to 
them ; these would only be brought into relief by the white- 
washed apartments of an American penitentiary. Neither is suf- 
ficient attention paid to the cleanliness of the convicts. All wash 
in an open fountain, and wipe themselves on a handkerchief, or coat 



PARISIAN AND AMERICAN PRISONS. 225 

sleeve. All wear their beards entirely a la patriarche, and there- 
fore require no barber. In opposition to Sterne, I am constrained 
to say " they do not manage these things better in France." 

In the government of the inmates of French prisons a degree 
of lenity is shown unknown in ours, and I think, fortunately so for 
us, as excessive indulgence must very seriously impair the utility 
of imprisonment. The conversation, which is permitted among 
the prisoners by the rules, while they are at work, as well as 
in the hours of recreation, when all are together without restraint, 
foments disturbances ; produces quarrels among themselves not 
unfrequently ending in death ; insurrections against the authori- 
ties and occasionally a general meeting. The labor imposed in 
American prisons is more severe, and does not therefore render 
special seasons for exercise at all necessary. The government 
indeed begins to think better of the solitary principle, and at- 
tempts in the construction of recent buildings to conform to it as 
much as possible. Considerable difficulty is felt in the introduc- 
tion of trades, which will admit the employment of strength suf- 
ficient to authorize the suspension of the established seasons of 
recreation. Stone-cutting is impracticable, because that opera- 
tion is performed here after the material is placed in the walls of 
edifices. This practice has obtained in consequence of its tender 
texture, which exposes it to be marred or spoiled in handling. 
Even the friction of the rope, employed to elevate it to its proper 
position, would inflict a serious injury. 

In the punishment of misbehavior, I think the French are not 
severe enough. One thorough correction, it seems to me, is 
more effective than many slight ones. My own experience when 
at school adds force to this opinion. The lower animals afford 
illustrations of the same principle. A horse soon becomes insen- 
sible to perpetual slight cuts of the whip, especially when adminis- 
tered with the characteristic gentleness of lady equestrians, whose 
most efficient lashes are those of their eyes. Thus according to 

the old doggerel, 

At first he starts and winces, 
Then presently lie minces, 
Till fast asleep and dreaming, 
He thinks all drivers women. 



226 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

I dislike exceedingly to see an unruly criminal put into a place 
of solitary confinement for twelve or twenty-four or even forty- 
eight hours. Let him stay there, till it becomes decidedly disa- 
greeable and irksome, and really a punishment ; till the culprit 
feels a little hungry on his stinted allowance of bread and water, 
and his bones begin to ache with reposing on the soft side of a 
pine board ; till the penalty shall be sufficient to hinder at least, 
if not prevent, the recurrence of a similar offence. The kind- 
hearted directors have forbidden the master of the Boston 
House of Correction from keeping any of his turbulant subjects in 
solitary confinement longer than a definite period without a spe- 
cial order from them ; and what is the consequence ? Why, all 
the prisoners know very well this restriction of his powers, and, 
though the same efficient person remains at the helm, — whose 
place could not be easily supplied — there is not the same good 
order as before. At the end of the period prescribed, he is 
obliged to release the stubborn spirit, that has offended his au- 
thority, and now defies and laughs at his limited punishment. 
The infliction of the cat is not known in these prisons ; and I 
question if it is used in similar establishments in the United 
States at the present time, though it was not abolished in the 
Massachusetts prison, when I visited it several years ago. A 
degradation is attached to it, which has compelled reflecting men 
to seek some other instrument of equal power to subdue a rebel- 
lious nature. The shower-bath, so efficacious, especially in the 
case of women, is not employed here. 

The frequent visits of friends seems to me to be an evil. Such 
often repeated communication promotes the continuance of old 
plans of action, and the maturation of new ones to be executed 
after their release. Instead of repentance, a feeling of anger, 
and perhaps revenge, is cherished both against the laws and the 
witnesses of the government. This permission ought surely to 
be cautiously and rarely granted. fc 

The food of the convicts, though good, is inferior to that in the 
American penitentiaries, which I have visited. The bread is 
generally black, but well risen and wholesome. The quantity of 
meat is very limited, and given much more rarely than with us. 



THE GENTLEMAN CONVICT. 227 

Nothing but water is used for drink, if a light soup is excepted, 
which may answer the purpose of a beverage. Few objections 
however of airy great importance can be alleged against their 
general treatment, except the extraordinary distinction made be- 
tween the rich and poor convict. Strong encouragement is held 
out to the thief to do a large business, provided he succeeds in 
retaining the property stolen by concealment, or making a deposit 
of it in the hands of a comrade. The horrors of a prison retire 
before him into the apartments of the small felons, who have 
committed petty larcenies perhaps to save themselves or families 
from starvation. The music of his gold summons around him 
many of the comforts of a private mansion ; and very likely he 
finds little difference between them, except the superior size, 
more numerous attendants, and greater amount and variety of 
company in his new home. The brown bread of government is 
not for his consumption, as he prefers a nice white roll with good 
sweet butter. In many of the prisons he is not obliged to labor, 
if he will pay a small daily sum, which the genteel criminal will 
of course prefer to do ; if he works at all, it must be for exer- 
cise, as a substitute for his customary diurnal promenade in the 
Broadway of Paris — the Boulevards. He disdains to wear the 
coarse shirts and other garments of the ordinary convict, and 
can by no means think of divesting himself of the principal and 
most envied marks of a gentleman — the superfine broadcloth. 
Without these accustomed luxuries he would be unhappy per- 
haps, and the pursuit of happiness he considers to be not only 
his inalienable privilege, but positive duty. It is not very com- 
mon indeed to witness an extent of luxury, like this ; but it is 
common to see a vast distinction made between the poor and 
wealthy criminal here and elsewhere. Even in the galleys, those 
who are sentenced for life, and possess rich friends, are much 
better off, than they who are destitute of their commanding in- 
fluence. The sentence of the highest offenders, such as assassins 
for example, are thus virtually modified in their favor, if they are 
fortunate in the possession of powerful connections, while others 
under adverse circumstances, are punished with unrelenting se- 
verity. 



228 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

Two Societies are connected with the prisons, whose object is 
indeed benevolent, but whose success, as well as that of many- 
similar associations, with which I have been acquainted, falls far 
below their excellent intentions and deserts. If the good seed, 
which has been wasted on stony places and among thorns and 
briars, had been scattered always upon good ground, there would 
have been sheaves enough produced to banish all inevitable want 
from the world. If we have the poor always with us, we have 
their counterfeits in equal numbers, who are, it must be acknowl- 
edged, the greatest orators of the two. And these " counterfeit 
presentments " play their parts with far superior success. For 
everybody knows, that no real misery ever levied such enormous 
contributions on a sympathising community, as the nightly actors 
of fictitious distress. A certain style of acting among the poor, 
as well as rich, seems to hit the public taste ; and money is often 
given outside the theatre, as well as within, to the performance, 
rather than the player. Unquestionably the benevolent are fre- 
quently deceived, for they cannot prevent their ears from standing 
open to every cry, and the most importunate, though least deserv- 
ing, is apt to drown the rest. As one is also able to hear, where 
he cannot see, he is in danger from such impulses of making 
many blunders in the dark. 

This morning, in reading a report of the trials, I noticed the 
sentence of two women committed to the House of Correction 
for thus abusing the tender feelings of their sex. The first solici- 
ted alms for herself and suffering babe, which she carried wrapt 
up in her bosom. But the helpless little innocent was discovered 
on examination to be only a child of worn out cloth and straw. 
— Was not this a case of a person literally reduced to rags ? The 
other, whose appearance denoted her to be on the point of con- 
finement, frequented the public streets, and as often as a well 
dressed woman passed, more especially if she was in a similar 
condition, she became suddenly overtaken with labor pains. 
Unable to proceed, and too destitute to hire a vehicle, she was 
kindly provided with money for that purpose, as well as to 
purchase the commodities which her situation and poverty re- 
quired. Her case being investigated, the interesting pro- 



A NUT FOR THE UNCHARITABLE. 229 

tuberance was found to be produced by a frame of wicker 
basket work, which very nicely imitated the delicate peculiarity 
of women. Yet notwithstanding these, and a multitude of 
similar instances, I am convinced, that with a moiety of the caution 
exercised in a man's ordinary business, he may bestow all the 
charity he has a heart to give, at an exceedingly slight hazard of 
deception. And in the two anecdotes just related, it is abundant- 
ly apparent, with what wonderful ease the mystery was unravel- 
ed. To tell the truth, the examples of imposition are in exact 
proportion to the indolence of the giver, and the direct conse- 
quences of his laziness and culpable want of caution. Such a 
state of things is exceedingly favorable to the parsimonious, who 
commonly are most eloquent about impostors, as their number is 
just large enough to serve them with an everlasting argument 
against alms -giving. 

The two Societies which I was about to mention, are La Societe 
de Patronage des Jeunes Liberes de la Seine, and La Societe de 
Patronage pour les Jeunes Filles liber tes et delaissees. The former 
has the care of the boys from the House of Correction, just men- 
tioned, after exit ; and the latter the poor abandoned girls, when 
released from confinement. Mons. de Lamartine is president of 
the latter, that of the former is Mons. Beranger, peer of France. 
Of the Society for girls I possess no information : but the other was 
founded in 1833 to watch over the youth in prison, and aid and 
encourage them after their enlargement. Every member is an 
active one, and has always one or two under his care, toward 
whom he acts as guardian, procuring him labor, overseeing his 
behavior, assisting him with advice, and if necessary with money. 
This is bestowed by government, and the benevolence of mem- 
bers. To this Society it is in a great measure owing, that the 
number of committals has diminished to the extent which I have 
in a former letter described. Prizes are every year awarded for 
good behavior, and a report of the Society published. Connected 
with the department of the Seine are two other Houses of Cor- 
rection for small offences, and for the suppression of mendicity ; 
but they are in the adjoining towns, beyond the limits of Paris. 



XXXVI. 

Church at St. Denis — The Sepulchre of the French Sovereigns- 
Tomb of Lafayette — Pere la Chaise. 

A few days ago, leaving the dust and tumult of the city be- 
hind me, by help of the great locomotive principle of the day— - 
not steam— but omnibus power, I soon passed walls, boulevards, 
barriers and fortifications, and found myself in the town of St. 
Denis, two leagues north of Paris. The celebrity of this little 
place, which has not more than five thousand inhabitants, is en- 
tirely owing to a Benedictine Abbey, founded in 250, and to the 
selection of this church as the burial-place of the French kings. 
The original edifice, which contained the ashes of the first king 
known to be buried here, Dagobert, son of Chilperic, was sup- 
planted by another, built by Dagobert I., and by still another, 
erected by Pepin, father of Charlemagne. All these have foun- 
dations. It was then rebuilt by Suger, the abbot of the monas- 
tery, in 1144. Two towers of this structure still remain. The 
rest, as it now exists, was added by St. Louis and his successor 
between the years 1250 and 1281. This venerable church 
suffered severely during the revolution. The bodies of the royal 
line, which had down to that period been there interred, were in 
1793, by order of the barbarous Convention, disinterred, and 
thrown into two large trenches dug near. In 1795, the leaden roof 
was stripped off, and another decree passed to raze to the ground 
this the most beautiful monument of the architecture of the time. 
Fortunately this order was not obeyed. Napoleon in 1806 gave 
directions for the restoration of the buildings ; since that time the 
work has been going on, and though more than three millions of 
dollars have been expended, it is yet unfinished. The monu- 

230 



CHURCH AT ST. DENIS. 231 



merits of the kings have been renovated, new glass has supplied 
the place of the old, which had been destroyed, and it now asserts 
its claim to be one of the most elegant edifices in an architectural 
view, and the most sumptuous in its decorations, in the kingdom. 
The walls and ceilings are literally encrusted in gold. The orna- 
ments are intended to be as near fac-similes of the originals, as 
possible, some specimens of which, accidentally found, servino- as 
models. There are very few pictures to be seen, but the various 
shrines are enriched with old sculptures in oak and statues in 
stone. Many of the crosses are of great antiquity, and the avant- 
altars are composed of beautiful mosaic. Around the church are 
numerous monuments of the most magnificent description. Any 
account of them would be unprofitable ; first, because they have 
so often been well described ; secondly, because the most perfect 
description would be useless. They must be seen to be under- 
stood. The sacristy is embellished with many pictures by the 
best living painters, which represent the most important events in 
the history of the church. It contains, likewise, a bronze chair 
of King Dagobert. The vaults are extremely curious, for there 
are the ashes of the French monarchs, and the monuments erected 
to their memory, most of them with statues, and many of them 
taken from life. Among them is a tomb, closed with bronze 
doors, made by Napoleon for himself. Death is certain, but the 
sepulchre is the sport of fortune, and in this monument now re- 
pose the ashes of Louis XVI. and XVIIL, Marie Antoinette, and 
some others of the elder branch of this family. The inscription 
on one monument in the nave of the church particularly attracted 
my notice. It stated that there lay John, son of Ludovicus, who 
migrated to Christ in the year 1247. Man is truly a bird of 
passage. 

The vespers gave me an opportunity to hear the new organ 
lately erected. It is the largest, and, since the loss of that in 
St. Eustache by fire, the best in France. The power is immense, 
and, when played in full force, shook the whole edifice. The 
echoes around the vaults, and through the lofty aisles, were ex- 
tremely fine. The reed notes I noticed to be particularly excellent, 
the hautboy and clarionet stops imitating those instruments with 



232 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

surprising exactness. Among the priests who officiated, one of 
the bishops, a fine looking man, was pointed out to me, as a 
natural son of Louis XVIII. 

After this hasty description of the final resting place of royalty, 
the lustre of whose fame, too often dimmed by bad actions, cannot 
be heightened by marble monuments, or golden inscriptions, come 
with me, and view the tomb of one, whose character was so spot- 
less, and life so pure, that even his enemies are unable to find any 
thing for blame. Leave behind the ideas of greatness derived 
from the contemplation of overshadowing gothic buildings, gilded 
walls, painted windows, and monuments of marble. Forget the 
name of king, and remember only, that " an honest man is the 
noblest work of God." Divest yourself of the impressions pro- 
duced at St. Denis, or — if you must take them with. you, — bring 
them for contrast only, as the painter introduces the dark back- 
ground into his work, merely to project with greater strength the 
peculiar features of his picture. To see the remains of the 
greatest man, that France has produced in modern times, and 
the purest of public characters ; of one who preserved his in- 
tegrity untarnished, notwithstanding the corruption around him, 

" Faithful found 

Among the faithless, faithful only he; 
Among innumerable false, unmov'd ;" 

one of the very few, who figured during the scenes of the Revo- 
lution, whose name is venerated by the people of France, esteem- 
ed by Britons, and embalmed in the hearts of Americans ; 
whither shall we go ? He reposes not by the side of the kings 
at St. Denis. Shall we seek him at the Hotel des Invalides under 
the grand dome, where sleep the ashes of Napoleon ? Shall we 
look for him in the magnificent Cemetery' of Pere la Chaise? 
Simple in his habits, and unostentatious to a remarkable degree 
in his manners during life, it is not in such places that he would 
desire to lay his bones in death. Accompany me then to the 
Hue de Picpus, in a retired quarter of the city. Here at No. 15, 
in the private cemetery connected formerly with a convent of the 
order of St. Augustine, but now a boarding school conducted by 
the same order, you will be shown a tomb covered with a double 



TOMB OF LAFAYETTE. 233 

slab of black stone, such as is used for a similar purpose in the 
United States. These two slabs are. united by a cross, and on 
each an inscription is cut. No white marble — no golden letters. 
Contrast this with the monument of Spurzheim at Mount Auburn, 
so renowned as a model of simplicity. Compare its scrolls and 
carving, the golden letters, with the one before you of ordinary 
stone, absolutely denied the least ornament whatever. Read its 
plain inscription, in harmony with the rest, with moistened eyes 
and beating heart : — 

M. J. P. R. Y. G. B. 

LAFAYETTE, 

Lieutenant-General, Membre de la Chambre des Deputes 

ne a Chavaniae Haute Loire 

De VI Sept. MDCCVIT. 

Marie Le XL Avril MDCCLXXIV. 

A 

M. A. F. de NOAILLES 

Decede a Paris le XX Mai 
MDCCCXXXIV. 

REQUIESCAT IN PACE. 

On the other slab a similar inscription records the decease of his 
wife, who died December 24, 1807. 

Now read a description of the royal vaults at St. Denis. 
" The walls of the royal vaults are cased with black marble, and 
ornamented with stone pilasters ; the pavement is of white and 
black marble, the coffins, some of which are covered with black or 
violet-colored velvet with ornaments of gold or silver, are placed 
on iron bars." The tomb of Francis I., and Claude of France, 
erected in 1550 after the designs of Philibert Delorme, is most 
sumptuous. The effigies of F. and C. repose on a superb ceno- 
taph, ornamented with a frieze representing the battles of Marig- 
nan and Cerisolles. Here the cenotaph rises a grand arch, en- 
riched with arabesques and basso relievos. Sixteen fluted columns 
support the entablature, above which are placed five statues of 
white marble in a kneeling posture, viz. Francis I., Claude his 
queen, the Dauphin and duke of Orleans, his sons and Charlotte, 
the daughter. Now, what think you of a black stone with an 
14 



234 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 

honest name upon it ; and a lustrous white marble, enriched with 
gold and statuary, with names like these inscribed ? One, exposed 
to the elements, but looking up through the pure air into the deep 
sky, and clasped by the bending and merciful heavens ; the other 
protected by a fretted canopy of gold, the atmosphere loaded 
with incense, and the sacred oriflamme waving overhead. 

In connection with this subject, it may be in place to give 
some notice of the feelings inspired by a view of that cemetery, of 
which all have heard, and which is one of the first places visited 
by a stranger. A particular description I shall not attempt, 
for it is familiar to every one. The great interest, that has been 
taken during the last few years through the United States in the 
formation of cemeteries, has caused it to be frequently sketched,, 
and the works of every tourist will give a more or less accurate 
notion of it. As a whole I was greatly disappointed. Every thing 
solemn loses in the hands of the French its grave character. 
The churches with their gilding and pictures resemble the the- 
atres far more than places for divine worship. This is particu- 
larly predicable of those of recent construction, such as L'eglise 
St Vincent de Paule, and Le Notre Dame de Lorette, which are 
shown to strangers, as worthy of high approbation. So with the 
cemeteries, and that of Pere La Chaise, of which I am new wri- 
ting. The street leading to it from the " Place de la Bastille" is 
well calculated to prepare the mind for a visit. This avenue is 
occupied by dealers in tomb stones and funereal garlands, and 
so large a quantity of sepulchral architecture is spread along the 
sides of the way, though generally without inscriptions, as almost 
to make one think, he has already entered the precincts of the 
consecrated ground. A large gateway, however, marks the en- 
trance. The gate posts are of stone, plain, with the exception of 
the carved torches, which form the corners, and the inscriptions on 
one of " Spes illorum immortalitate plena est, Sapient III. IV. ;" 
and on the other, " Qui credit in me, etiam si mortuus fuerit, vivet, 
Jean II." The gates are of oak. One soon loses the solemn 
feelings, which he experienced in his walk hither. He finds 
himself in a cemetery, where rest the merchants of Paris, whose 
tombs subserve the double purpose of displaying the wealth of 




lUMEWT B'ABEJLARB ET B' BTEEOISE, PEEE JLA CHAISE 



PERE LA CHAISE* 235 



the family of the deceased, and as an advertisement, or sign, 
for his successor in business. One for instance bore an inscrip- 
tion like the following : — " Here lies butcher in street, 

number , &c. This tomb is erected by his affectionate son 

and successor in business at the old stand." The multitude of 
monuments at first fill one with astonishment, and are put into 
the ground without any form or regularity. Some are even, 
others uneven ; they are set sidewise, cornerwise, in any wise, that 
they can be packed. An oblong of eight feet by three with a 
railing round and a monument within is succeeded by another 
oblong, another rail, another monument, and thus the entire ceme- 
tery is densely stowed, unvaried, except in the variety of the 
sepulchral architecture, and now and then a union of two, three, 
or four of these metres, when some rich skeleton would not be 
contented without a larger space to lie in. Between the tombs a 
narrow pass of six inches, or one foot wide, leaves room for a few 
stunted trees, and so the cedar and spruce have contrived to se- 
cure a foothold. 

If little taste is discovered in the general plan of Pere la 
Chaise, it is to be found in the tombs themselves separately. The 
monuments, when isolated, present beauties, which are hidden by 
their unfavorable situation. They are of all sorts. The most 
remarkable, such as that of Heloise and Abelard, have been often 
described. Some of later erection, and those, which for their 
elegance or peculiarities, struck my attention, I shall venture to 
sketch, trusting, that I have selected such, as have escaped gene- 
ral notice. 

It is astonishing to see, how man regards his last resting-place. 
He, who was all his days content to live in poverty in a garret, 
when dead, seeks for a mausoleum of marble, to the erection of 
which the niggard savings of years are to furnish the means. 
He, who was satisfied to pass a lifetime in obscurity, desires a 
posthumous immortality. Thus a poor epicier, who lived in a 
retired street, unknowing and unknown, upon his marble monu- 
ment has placed his portrait, painted upon canvas, and protected 
from the winds and storms by a bell glass. Others have casts in 
plaster of Paris, some painted, these may be found in different 



236 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

states of decay in all parts of the grounds. Others, who wish 
to live longer in the eyes of the world, have them in bronze and 
marble of all kinds. 

As in all other places of a similar character, many of the mon- 
uments serve to show respect for the memory of the illustrious 
personage, who there lies interred. Among these that of Casi- 
mir Perier, erected not many years ago by the city of Paris, is 
one of the most remarkable. This monument, situated very con- 
spicuously in the centre of a large enclosure, was built by a pub- 
lic subscription, to record their veneration for the great statesman 
and orator, who for many years, in the highest situations of the 
government, and as prime minister in 1832, reflected honor upon 
his native city. On a lofty pedestal, on three sides of which are 
allegories of Justice, Eloquence and Firmness, in basso relievo, 
and on the fourth an inscription worthy of his memory, stands 
his statue in bronze. It is a noble work of art. One, who offi- 
ciates as guide around the cemetery, relates to Americans the fol- 
lowing anecdote : " A few years since I accompanied a party of 
Americans through the grounds. On coming to this I remarked, 
that this statue is said by Americans to bear a very strong like- 
ness to one of your most distinguished men, Daniel Webster. 
There were few remarks made, but, as we proceeded, one of the 
ladies informed me, that D. W. was one of the party then pre- 
sent." I do not see any resemblance myself. Another of more 
simplicity, raised by private subscription, is to the memory of the 
celebrated painter Gericault. The front of the tomb is ornament- 
ed by a cast in bronze of one of his best pictures, which rep- 
resents a party of wrecked sailors on a raft. The sides have 
sketches, cut in the free stone, of others of his works, and behind, 
- — which struck me as in exceedingly bad taste, — the names of 
those, who contributed to its erection, are carefully preserved. 
Another, erected within a few years, records the death of a sol- 
dier. It is ornamented with castings of helmets, swords, cannon, 
spear heads, &c, and bears the inscription, " Decorum est pro 
patria mori." 

Others have inscriptions dictated by family pride. One records 
the death of Robertson, an aerostat ; upon the side of whose 



MONUMENTS OF AFFECTION. 237 



lofty monument of white marble are basso relievos, representing 
a crowd witnessing a balloon ascension, boys climbing upon a 
fence, and old men looking over their spectacles. Some English 
tombs record the death of people of high birth; but as they 
themselves, during life, never did any deed worthy of even the 
short perpetuity of a tomb -stone, the names of all the distin- 
guished in the family since its existence are emblazoned thereon. 
Moliere, so long denied a Christian burial, lies tranquilly at last 
under a beautiful sarcophagus of white marble, supported by four 
columns, and surmounted by a vase. Near him La Fontaine, 
whose marble cenotaph, crowned by a fox in black marble, is 
ornamented with two basso relievos in bronze of the fable of the 
" Wolf and Stork," and the " Wolf and Lamb." 

Far more of the monuments record expressions of feeling and 
sentiment, in which this nation so far excel all others. It is not 
then surprising, that we find numerous tombs of the most beau- 
tiful, lovely, virtuous good of the earth ; each of whom their 
friends fondly imagined to be the best. Many plain slabs, united 
by clasped hands, whose arms spring from the summit, perpet- 
uate the virtues of a husband and wife, whom " death had sev- 
ered, and death had united." Another bears upon it under a bell 
glass, a piece of embroidery, forming a wreath of flowers, in the 
centre of which is the inscription, "To my sister," which would 
look much like a lamp-stand, if one did not see therein the beat- 
ings of a warm heart. For the tomb of a dissenting minister a 
pillar of some ten feet of marble is elevated, surmounted by a 
cushion, on which is lying an open Bible. The effect is very 
good. The monuments are mostly hollow with iron doors, and 
variously adorned with windows of colored glass in cruciform, 
and other shapes. About the walls are inscriptions of the va- 
rious members of the family deceased. Some contain busts ; 
others, small shrines with cross, flowers, &c, and all, of every 
class and kind almost, have numerous wreaths of artificial flowers, 
hanging upon the iron fences, or placed in glass cases. Some 
are quite filled with them, and little statues of saints and pray- 
ing children, in plaster. To many are attached small pots of 
roses, pansies and other sentimental plants. 



238 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

Thus far I have described the graves of the rich, among whom, 
on neat slabs of white marble with true simplicity I found two, 
which particularly interested me. They, like me, had perhaps 
left kindred and friends behind, and tended by the hands of 
strangers, had died in a foreign land. The inscriptions are as 
follows : 

H E 

W n 



Born in New York, June 21, 1824. 
Died in Paris, April 2, 1840. 



Ne a New York, le 14 Aout, 1814. 
Mort a Paris, le 16 Janvier, 1845. 

Around them pots of fresh flowers and garlands showed, that, 
though far remote from home, they still had friends to watch 
over their remains. From the slab of the first I took the shell 
of a snail, which I found thereunto adhering, and shall bear it 
to the United States, as a memorial of this visit. 

These are the wealthy, and their tombs are the " perpetual 
graves," where their bones will remain undisturbed forever. Those, 
who are not sufficiently rich to buy this right, are deposited in a 
quarter assigned them for the space of five years, when, being en- 
tirely decomposed, they are disinterred to make room for others. 
The third sort to be provided for, are the poor, who are allowed 
the charity, shall I say luxury, of a grave for five years also. 
This class, however, have not a portion of land allotted them. A 
large trench is dug some four feet deep. I witnessed several fu- 
nerals of this kind. The bodies, (those which I saw, were in- 
fants) were borne, enclosed in a coffin of unpainted boards, and 
wrapped in black, upon the shoulders of a sexton ; behind whom 
followed the mourners. As he let the coffin down from his shoul- 
ders to the ground, the body slid from one end to the other with 
a most unpleasant sound. The black cloth was rudely pulled 
away, and the coffin slipped down to the man below, who placed 
it in juxtaposition with those already there. The mould of pre- 



BURIAL OF THE POOR. 



ceding generations was then scattered two or three inches thick 
upon the top, barely hiding it from sight. The uncovered side 
was immediately concealed from view by the next comer. Hav- 
ing filled up some distance, the dust was heaped upon them, the 
wooden cross painted black, having an inscription, was then fixed 
as near as could be computed, to the spot, where the body to 
which it belonged was laid, the wreaths put upon it, and all was 
finished. 

For five years the mourner can come to the sacred place, which 
contains the ashes of her departed relative, and bewail her loss. 
Beyond this time, affection cannot find the spot, where the son 
or daughter, all that is dear in life, is placed. The poor mother 
cannot hope to lie after death by the side of her child. No in- 
scription can perpetuate the memory of either. " Hie et uhique," 
is written all over the ground, and obliterates all others. Death 
does not make all men equal. All men are not born, neither do 
they die, equal. A life of suffering, toil and privation is not 
enough. When death comes at a hospital the poor patient, 
destitute of friends sufficiently rich to bear the expense of a 
burial, looks foward in his last moments to no other grave, but 
the dissecting room ; at best, he cannot expect a rest of more 
than a few years in Christian ground. Is he the only, or greatest 
monster, who cuts the rich man's throat to save himself, by 
wealth thus acquired, from abandonment to so cruel a fate ? 
Such thoughts chill the blood, and gladly have I arrived near the 
end of my sheet, so that I may be relieved for a while from re- 
flection on the misfortunes of the poor. God grant, in his great 
mercy, that a similar condition of things may never obtain in our 
own country ; and yet, from some things I have heard, I fear, that 
the public grounds in New- York are not much better conducted. 
In Boston even, philanthropic, moral Boston, the dead man can- 
not rest in peace. Yet she too has her wealthy citizens, who 
have the courage, as they possess the money, to build in their 
lifetimes their own sepulchral monuments of Italian marble, or 
some other costly material, or else have in their wills more mod- 
estly directed their executors to do it for them. And while these 
palaces for skeletons are being erected, not only are those, whom 



240 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

misfortune sends to the city poor house, buried without a prayer, 
but they are placed in tombs, where they remain in quiet for a year 
at most. Every spring this is opened, the coffin rudely knocked to 
pieces, and burnt with the linen winding sheet, when they are 
so fortunate as to get any, which is rarely the case, and the 
the bodies tossed together into a trench, and covered up. Boston 
has now a mayor, whose human sympathies the weight of riches 
has not crushed. Let him look to this. If economy is the order 
of the day, and a piece of beach land, or hill of sand, is too ex- 
pensive, let the patients be deprived of a meal a week, and a fund 
of thirty pieces of silver will soon accumulate to buy a Potters- 
field, where the dead poor may no longer be disturbed in their 
last, and, in some cases, their first repose. In this respect, in 
ihe boasted land of liberty, let all be equal. 

Many have endeavored to institute a comparison between Pere 
la Chaise and Mount Auburn, the beautiful cemetery in the vicin- 
ity of Boston, Mass. Scarcely anything can be more absurd. 
If one should essay to compare St. Peter's church at Rome with 
the F ils of Niagara, all would cry out at the obvious incon- 
gruil/. Yet a similar parallel is attempted to be drawn in the 
former case. The beauties and grandeurs of art and nature can 
very seldom be brought into competition. It is easy, however, 
to point out the difference between them. In the case before 
us, one is distinguished by possessing beauty in the whole ; the 
other in particular parts. The general beauty of Mount Auburn 
strikes every beholder. Nature has done much, ay all, for her. 
Her varieties of hill and dale, of foliage, of ponds and rivulets, 
make her coup d'ceil most exquisite. Pere la Chaise says, I grant 
you all this advantage, and that you appear charming at a dis- 
tance ; but the ornaments you wear, though superbly mounted, 
I confess, and seeming on a casual glance to be rich and costly, 
are poor things after all. I do not, myself, make any pretension 
on the score of glittering gauds, and simulated gems. Indeed, 
my general appearance must be allowed to be somewhat unpre- 
possessing ; but if you will take the trouble to examine me closely, 
you will find me decked in jewels of great intrinsic value, with 
cameos of rare workmanship, mosaics, and antiques. 



DEATH'S EXPENSES. 241 



The money, that has been lavished on the monuments is enor- 
mous. Twenty-five millions of dollars is the estimate of an 
expense which cannot be accurately ascertained. For this great 
sum, you would look for something beautiful and sumptuous, and 
you will find it. This computation will cease to appear extrava- 
gant, when it is remembered, that many of the monuments are 
works of the first sculptors of the country. 
14* 



XXXVII. 

Royal Institution of the Deaf and Dumb — Abbe de L 5 Epee — Si* 
card — Royal Institution for the Blind— Artesian Well at Gre- 
nelle — Comparison of the Royal Institution for the Blind, and 
the Asylum for the Blind, at South Boston — Thomas Handasyd 
Perkins. 

No matter what a man's taste or character may be, he can be 
gratified in Paris with admirable ease. Aspirations of the high- 
est order, and propensities of the lowest, meet alike with their 
appropriate aliment. All sorts of desires may be removed with 
a promptness that will suit the temper of the impatient, and an 
elegance, surpassing the conceptions of the fastidious. The most 
perfect articles, of every description, are constantly within the 
reach of one's hand, provided always that there is plenty of 
money in it ; for the wants of a voluptuous city have caused the 
globe to be ransacked for the choicest productions of every coun- 
try ; the most recherche gems of nature and art are poured 
into her lap with luxurious profusion. Napoleon brought from 
his conquered cities the most celebrated works of the best mas- 
ters, and made the Louvre a depot of chef-d'ceuvres* While the 
senses are thus catered for to an extent and perfection unknown 
elsewhere, while the man of science and art, the lover of painting 
and poetry, sculpture and statuary, the gourmand and sensualist, 
realize all which their hearts can possibly desire, whether lofty or 
low ; the votary of religion, the man of large heart, and expan- 
sive affections, of high and correct feelings also, finds the institu- 
tions of religion and charity, that kindle his ardent sympathies, and 
fill his soul with benevolent transport. None among them pos- 
sess more interest for a philanthropist, than they which have 
for their object the care and education of those poor unfortunates, 

242 



INSTITUTION FOR THE DEAF AND DUMB. 243 

who have been deprived of any of the senses, so indispensable to 
the performance of the duties and labors of life, and, without 
which, man is in danger of forfeiting his rank, as lord of this 
lower world. 

The Royal Institution for the Deaf and Dumb is one of the 
noble triumphs of modern times, and the Christian spirit, over a 
portion of the numerous ills " that flesh is heir to." I returned 
from a visit to it with great satisfaction, and augmented respect 
for my fellow-man. It is not in human power to impart the 
"gift of tongues," or the means of hearing the harmonious 
voices of creation, to those who have been denied the appro- 
priate organs ; but, as the water is made to run from the brazen 
hands of the giant of the fountains at Versailles, so words of 
happiness and comfort, peace and love, as well as the language 
of poetry and wit, brilliant and sparkling as their spray in the 
sim's rays, can be taught to flow from the fingers of the dumb. 
The tympanum of the closed ear may refuse to respond to sound ; 
— no matter — the same blessed art conducts the bright electric 
current of thought along the opaque nerves to illuminate the 
darkness of the imprisoned intellect, and cause the heart to vi- 
brate with the sharp alternations of grief and joy. Through 
these portals, thus opened, a communication is established be- 
tween them and the outer world, and no longer, as in the case 
of the immortal bard of Paradise — 

" Is wisdom at one entrance quite shut out." 
This institution is one of the earliest, if not the very first of its 
kind, that ever existed. It originated in the capacious heart of 
the Abbe de L'Epee, a man without note, or wealth, or patron- 
age. Like John Kryle, whose name is in danger of being eclipsed 
and forgotten, by the immortal splendors of the great poet's 
" Man of Ross," he did more with his narrow patrimony, than 
others have accomplished with their millions. 
" Oh, say, what sums that generous hand supply ? 
What mines to swell that boundless charity? 
Of debts and taxes, wife and children clear, 
This man possessed — five hundred pounds a year. 
Blush, grandeur, blush ! proud courts, withdraw your blaze! 
Ye little stars ! hide your diminished rays." 



244 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

This was the actual revenue of John Kryle ; it was also very 
nearly that of this whole-souled Abbe. He was not indeed the 
inventor of the language of the mutes. That honor belongs to 
Pedro de Ponce, a benedictine monk. Even the system, he made 
use of, was soon superseded by his pupil Sicard. But the glory 
will always be his, of having given prominence to this -particular 
expression of philanthropy, and, by his singular devotion to it 
of himself, and all that he possessed, of having caused it to be- 
come, what it now is, one of the most favored and interesting 
channels through which good men may pour their love, their 
intellect, and wealth. From his limited income of about five 
hundred pounds a year, he reserved one-seventh to himself, the 
rest he considered the patrimony of the deaf and dumb, to whom 
he so sacredly applied it, that in the rigorous winter of 1788, 
when he was in his seventy-fifth year, he denied himself fuel, 
rather than intrench on the fund he had destined them. His 
housekeeper seeing this, led into his apartment forty of his pupils, 
who besought him with tears to preserve himself for their sakes ; 
but he would afterwards say in playing with his scholars, " I 
have wronged my children out of a hundred crowns." With 
these humble means he undertook, at the outset, to maintain forty 
deaf and dumb pupils, and educate them in reading, writing, 
grammar, and the reduction of the most metaphysical ideas to 
words. From this feeble commencement, generations since have 
almost literally learnt to speak his praise, and one hundred and 
fifty scholars, now belonging to the institution, bless his memory. 

In 1*785 this charity, attracting the royal attention, was, by 
the influence of Marie Antoinette, made a dependence of the 
government ; whereupon the establishment was transferred to the 
Convent of Celestines, which had been suppressed. In 1*790 the 
good Abbe died, and the Abbe Sicard succeeded him, and intro- 
duced an improved system of instruction. During the Revolu- 
tion the Institution was removed to its present situation in the 
Rue St. Jacques. At present it contains one hundred and six 
male, and forty- eight female pupils ; the number of gratuitous 
scholars is limited to eighty. The only requisites for reception 
into this class are satisfactory evidence of inability to pay for 



INSTITUTION FOR THE BLIND. 245 

education, and certificates of age, baptism, vaccination, and the 
fact of being really deaf and dumb. None are admitted, but 
those between the ages of ten and fifteen. The sexes are sepa- 
rated, and all are taught during the prescribed period of six 
years, reading, writing, arithmetic, drawing, engraving, or some 
other art. Boarders pay nine hundred francs, or one hundred 
and eighty dollars nearly, a year. 

The entire institution wears a most comfortable aspect. The 
buildings, if not new, are fresh in their appearance, and scrupu- 
lously neat. The chapel, a small, plain room, was the first apart- 
ment into which I was conducted. Behind the altar is a fine 
painting by Gamier, of Christ causing " the blind to see, the 
deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak." It is in reality a speak- 
ing picture. In this room was a painting, apparently placed 
there temporarily, representing the death of the Abbe L'Epee, 
surrounded by his unfortunate pupils. In the same edifice are 
a great many work-shops of various kinds, school-rooms, and 
other conveniences. In an upper story are the beds of the 
children, arranged around a large hall, neat, clean and comfort- 
able. At the side is the wash-room, encircled by a kind of 
sink, with several cocks for drawing water. Each pupil has his 
towel hanging upon a nail, his glass and other accommodations, 
each his station at this species of wash-stand. This arrangement 
is vastly superior to that generally seen in the large boarding- 
schools. 

In the first story are the dining-rooms. Long tables run the 
length of the room with benches on each side. The tables are 
formed of slabs of magnificent colored marble, supported on iron 
frames. Underneath a shelf, divided into partitions, contains 
the napkin and other furniture of each pupil. At the time of 
my visit, the children were at their sports ; the girls in the beau- 
tiful garden in the rear, and the boys in various ways amusing 
themselves in the spacious court-yard. 

Almost simultaneously with the foundation of the establish- 
ment for the deaf and dumb, the Institution Royale des Aveugles 
was erected. Seventeen hundred and ninety- one is the date of 
its origin through the benevolent exertions of M. Hauy, who ob- 



246 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

tained the royal approbation of Louis XVI. In 1843 the estab- 
lishment was removed, from its former confined quarters, to the 
present convenient and splendid edifice, erected for its use. Over 
the grand entrance is a las-relief, representing on one side Valentin 
Hauy, the first instructor, teaching his pupils ; and on the other, 
a woman giving lessons to girls: — Religion, in the centre, encour- 
ages both. The building is divided so as to accommodate the 
two sexes, and watered from the Artesian Well, heated by pipes, 
containing hot water, and lighted with a mixture of water, and a 
liquid extracted from wood. I trust that no one will suppose 
the water from the Artesian Well to be sufficiently hot to warm 
the house. The heat, even at the well itself, will always admit 
the contact of the hand to the metallic conductor. I make this 
explanation, because I saw a communication in a Boston print, 
proposing to water that city by a similar well, which, besides 
other objects of importance, was expected to furnish hot-baths, 
— a paper, which is calculated to mislead the public. 

The well at Grenelle is seventeen hundred feet in depth, and was 
constructed, at immense cost, by constant labor, for seven years 
and two months. A proposition has been made to dig another 
in the Jardin des Plantes, three thousand feet deep. At this vast 
depth the water is computed to be warm enough for warm-baths, 
and for heating the' wards of the hospitals in the neighborhood, 
being at from ninety-seven degrees to a hundred and four degrees 
Fahrenheit. The Bostonians will not be so foolish as to go to the 
immense expense of procuring water of a doubtful character, 
and of a temperature not sufficiently high for ^oi-baths, or even 
for warming the wards of the only hospital in the city proper, 
in that cold climate, while Spot or Long ponds are so near and 
so commodious. The quantity of water thus produced is worthy 
of attention. The orifice of the well is twenty-one and a half 
inches nearly, and seven inches nearly at the bottom, and yields, 
at the mouth, six hundred and sixty gallons per minute ; at an 
elevation of one hundred and twelve feet — a height sufficient to 
carry the water into the highest story of the loftiest house in the 
city, the quantity is three hundred and sixteen gallons — scarcely 
sufficient for Boston, as it will be. 



PROFICIENCY OF THE BLIND. 247 

To return to the Blind Asylum, from which we have strayed, 
not from a want of eyes, but from turning them upon the future. 
The gardens, attached to the asylum, are very prettily arranged, 
so that the lot of the inmates seems still more unfortunate, when 
we reflect that they cannot see and admire them. Arrangements 
are there made for gymnastic exercises. Eighty boys and forty 
girls are constantly maintained in this institution at the public 
expense, whose education is completed in eight years. Boarders 
of all nations are also admitted into this philanthropic seminary, 
which is capable of containing three hundred pupils, who must 
be between the ages of eight and fifteen, and are required to 
produce certificates of birth, parents, good conduct and indi- 
gence, and their own freedom from idiocy and contagious dis- 
eases. M. Dufau is the director. 

The dining, sleeping, and wash-rooms are similar to those in 
the institution for the Deaf and Dumb. One room is filled 
with seats, placed at regular intervals, and numbering in all per- 
haps thirty, and before each is put a tub, capable of containing 
two gallons, or more, pierced with a hole in the bottom. My 
curiosity was excited by this arrangement, and I was informed 
that the whole apparatus was designed to secure a regular and 
thorough washing of the feet. 

It was the last of the month, when I visited the institution ; 
it was then opened to the public, as usual, and I made the tour 
of the building, finding, however, but little difference between it 
and the admirable one at South Boston, Mass., under the excel- 
lent care of Dr. Howe. I inquired of some of the pupils, if they 
knew the Doctor, who has recently visited the European institu- 
tions. They replied, that they had not seen, but had heard of 
him. There are numerous school-rooms and work- shops ; in the 
former of which are taught reading, writing, arithmetic, geo- 
graphy, &c. The advancement was not near so great as at South 
Boston. One said that he studied geometry, which is the highest 
branch. When I mentioned my friend Mr. Joseph Smith, and 
told them that he was in college with me, that he knew Latin, 
Greek, French, Geometry, Trigonometry, and was also a Bachelier 
h Lettres, they were absolutely astonished. They never had 



248 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

heard of a blind person so well instructed, and made many in- 
terrogatories in regard to it. 

The reading is the same as in the United States. The writing 
I thought different, but am not confident. Their letters are made 
by means of a tin frame, pierced with holes at regular distances-, 
and in these they write ; but not, as I think, at South Boston, by 
forming them in a shape, similar to the common ones in general 
use. Here they are made by mere pricks in the paper, the order 
and number of which constitue the letters. In this manner the 
writing is unintelligible to one not initiated in this species of hiero- 
glyphics. I was told, that few of the pupils could write, so that 
the world could read, although they occasionally attempted to 
correspond thus with their friends. A good idea of geography 
was obtained by means of raised maps, and of arithmetic, by 
moveable figures in a frame. 

The workshops afford employment for those who are educated, 
and teach the ignorant a method of gaining a livelihood. The 
younger scholars were employed in making a species of shoe 
from strips of the list of woolen cloth, wicker baskets of various 
sizes and shapes, carpeting of coarse straw, straw hats, and in 
seating chairs with the same material. Others were occupied in 
printing, and binding books, when made. Some of the more 
advanced were engaged in cabinet manufacture ; and numerous 
articles of highly polished mahogany and oak attested their 
proficiency in this art. In another department are turning 
lathes, with which they formed boxes, cups, and vases, of wood 
and ivory, of great beauty. It was astonishing to see with what 
ability they use these sharp instruments, guiding them with per- 
fect precision to the desired portion of the swift-revolving block 
before them, which, rough and shapeless at first, soon came forth 
smooth and graceful, as the marble from the sculptor's hands. 

Hair brushes, mats, and rugs, worked in various colors, silk 
scarfs, and other similar articles, were displayed, as specimens 
of the skill of the female portion, who, though chattering and 
laughing, did not neglect all the while to keep their fingers also 
busy upon the work before them. 

The most interesting portion of the exercises was a Concert, 



BLIND MUSICIANS. 249 



which was given in the early part of the afternoon. It com- 
menced with a fragment of a symphony of Haydn, played by an 
orchestra of twenty-five instruments, directed by M. Gauthier. 
The most wonderful part of the performance was the exact time 
and precision, in which it was played. The leader, blind himself 
as the others, has lately published a treatise on the varieties of 
music, which is dedicated to CarafFa, and is said to have some 
merit. He certainly had drilled his pupils exceedingly well. 
There were solos for the flute and clarinet. A young girl sang 
several songs with good taste and execution. A girl of about 
eighteen played a fantasia on movements in the Domino JSToir of 
Auber, and the overture of the Marquess of Brinvilliers by CarafFa 
finished the performance. 

Any comparison between them and the orchestras that one 
hears in the various theatres and ball-rooms of this city, is out 
of the question. No competition with these finished performers, 
can of course be sustained ; but a parallel may, with perfect 
propriety, be run between their exhibitions and the concerts 
given by the same class of persons at the Blind Asylum at South 
Boston. It is to be expected, however, that the pupils in a city, 
where the best music in the world is to be daily heard, and the 
most scientific and skilful masters exist in multitudes ; where the 
airs which are heard in the streets, sung by the boor and the 
peasant, (for the French do not whistle,) are gems from the works 
of the great masters ; and the morceaus from the operas of 
Lucie de Lammermoor, I Puritani, and a thousand other similar 
productions, are as common as Lucy Long, and others of that 
dingy class of songs in the United States, would surpass the 
American pupils, who are strangers to all these rare ad- 
vantages. And so we find it, speaking in the general. The 
orchestral pieces would well compare with those, which lace- 
rate the nice ear at the American theatres. The instruments are 
always in tune, the time is always correct. The chief deficiency 
is a deadness, which characterizes the whole. With the same 
caution that they walk, the blind also play. It seems, as if they 
had always a fear of going wrong. Our orchestras, on the con- 



250 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

trary, take half of Crockett's motto only, go ahead without regard- 
ing whether they are right or not. 

I have not a particular remembrance of the orchestra at South 
Boston, as it is some years ago since I visited the school, and do 
not even remember whether they have any. In the solo performan- 
ces one can institute a parallel, at least, as far as the piano goes. 
Those on the flute and clarinet, the former an air from Berbiguer, 
with variations, were tolerably played. The fantasia on the 
piano, was, as I understood, by the best player of the school, 
and was a piece exhibiting some powers of execution. This I 
found to be much inferior to several of the piano-players at 
South Boston, especially Mr. J. Smith. Mistakes in striking 
wrong notes, loss of time, and the imperfect manner in which the 
runs were made, formed a striking contrast with the compara- 
tively perfect style, in which the former has played to me much 
more difficult pieces. The organ playing in another room was 
not worth the comparison with that of Harvard University. In 
the songs, and a trio by three of the girls, they undoubtedly 
bore away the palm. The native taste of the country conspires 
against us. Two songs were exceedingly well done, and met 
with universal approbation. The young men were extravagantly 
delighted, especially Mons. Le Premier Violin, whose pleasure 
oozed out to the surface in the most expressive contortions of face 
and body. 

From this hasty, but correct, account of this noble charity, 
one cannot fail to have a very high opinion of the management 
of a similar one at home. A rivalry with the old institutions of 
Europe, sustained and encouraged, as they are, by the patronage 
of government, and the influence of general local circumstances, 
is a great thing of itself. But when we are seen to come out of 
so severe an ordeal with honor, if not with laurels, we have a 
right to look with complacency on our plain republican establish- 
ments, and feel some pride in being compatriots with those gen- 
erous men, who devote their wealth to the prevention and relief 
of human suffering. It may be, though I cannot think it, that 
no basso-relievos will perpetuate the lineaments of the benevo- 



AMERICAN PHILANTHROPY. 251 



lent individual, who gave a princely asylum to the unfortunate 
of his race, and that no rich-framed picture will preserve for the 
contemplation of posterity the celestial serenity of the closing 
scene, in 

" The chamber, where the good man meets his fate :" 

yet thousands of poor blind children, whose mental eyes have 
been opened by his bounty, will for ages to come, read the en- 
graving on their hearts of the name of Thomas Handasyd 
Perkins. 

Who says the wealthy are not to be envied ? Such glorious' 
examples of the proper use of the gifts of heaven, create every 
day a greater "lust for riches." To be the "Almoners of God" 
is the delightful prerogative of the opulent, and all must long for 
such a lot. Boston can proudly point to her Tuckerman and 
Channing, her Parker and Lawrences, with a score beside, who 
are creating for their beloved city, that sitteth on her triple hill, 
a name, monumentum cere perennius, which shall outlive her 
sumptuous palaces, and the granite shaft on Bunker Hill. My 
sheet is nearly finished ; were it twice as large, I could fill it 
with recollections of the deeds of her citizens, not only on the 
battle-field, but in the widow's cottage, and the garret of the sick 
laborer, often performed with such secresy, that the beneficiaries, 
ignorant who their earthly benefactors are, can only pay their 
gratitude to the invisible Parent of all good, whom in this they 
-resemble. Such being the character of my countrymen, there is 
no need of kings and princes to build hospitals for us, for they 
are the indigenous and spontaneous growth of the soil. 



XXXVIII. 

Rachel — Her performance in Virginius — Execution by the Guillo- 
tine — Jardin des Plantes — Governor of Coney Island — Military 
Music — The King — Count de Paris. 

The great tragic actress was a short time ago, when I saw her, 
the only performer of any eminence on the French stage. The 
close of her engagement was fast approaching, and it was neces- 
sary to go immediately, in order to witness a display of her great 
powers, before her departure for the provinces. With difficulty 
I obtained a ticket, four days previous to her appearance in the 
new tragedy of Virginius, written expressly for her, and which 
has created a furor, which seems unsusceptible of abatement. 
The fame, which she enjoys, I am convinced, now that I have 
seen her, is richly deserved, for Mademoiselle Rachel is a woman 
of no ordinary character. In person she is of medium height, 
well formed, but slight. Her face, though not homely, is neither 
a pleasant one, nor marked by any evident traces of uncommon 
genius. Her eyes are small and black, nose Jewish, mouth small 
and possessing that disagreeable expression, very often seen in the 
company of projecting chins. Her teeth, like those of most of the 
French, are white and regular, hair dark, complexion light, and 
extremely pallid. This was ascribed by an old gentleman near 
me to two causes ; a disease of the lungs, under which it is feared 
she is laboring, and to an imperfect recovery from a late sickness, 
attendant on childbirth — a frequent accident among young French 
misses. Nature has not been lavish to her exterior, but she has 
made up for this parsimony by showering upon her most liberally 
the choicest gems of intellect. 

The play of Virginius is very well written. The old hackneyed 
portions of the literal history are avoided, as much as possible, and 

252 



FICTION AND REALITY. 253 



new and natural incidents are with much felicity introduced. In 
the second act Appius, accused by the sister of the assassination 
of Icilius, declares it a falsehood The words je le crois pronounc- 
ed by Virginie, is one of the best points in the whole play. This 
act closes with the interest so highly excited, that I had great 
fear of its nagging before the consummation. On the contrary, it 
constantly increased, and I sat half breathing, till exhausted, I 
gladly saw the fatal stroke, which finished the matter, and gave 
me an opportunity again to respire without restraint. Refraining 
from a critical analysis of her acting, I have merely mentioned, 
how I felt. The piece is of a very superior order, though pos- 
sessing the ever recurring rhyme, so disagreeable to a foreign ear. 
I say nothing against this, because I consider the poetry, as well 
as the particular religious development of a nation, a sacred 
thing, to be respected by a stranger, who is unable, for obvious 
reasons, to appreciate the merits of either. Beside the great 
part of Virginie, those of Virginius, Appius and Fabius, a Ro- 
man senator, afford scope for the display of consummate genius. 
From the distress of dramatic fiction, and the emotions caused 
by the "counterfeit presentment" of the Roman girl, let us turn 
to the world's actual tragedy, — a spectacle of terrible reality, 
where the emotions, if calmer, were yet stronger, and where a 
vastly larger company assembled to witness the awful catastro- 
phe. It was an expiation made for the violation of the majesty 
of law, where the retributive death of the guilty closed the af- 
fecting scene, and the criminal suffered instead of the innocent. 
Having a great desire to see the far-famed guillotine, I had taken 
considerable pains to be forewarned of the first occasion, when 
it was expected "to perform." Great efforts are used to hinder 
the publicity of an execution, while, at the same time, those who 
desire to witness it, are not prevented. The criminal, when sen- 
tenced to death, is left in ignorance of the day of his dreadful 
doom. The public are also uninformed. His sentence is made 
known in the gazettes of the day, but he generally surfers three 
days afterwards. It is said, that neither the jailer, nor hangman, 
know the precise time, till the previous night, when they suddenly 
receive orders to erect the scaffold. The prisoner is sometimes 
15 



254 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

reprieved, and this is for one month only. I had engaged a 
workman, who labors near the barrier St. Jaques — an unfrequent- 
ed part of the city — to send me word, when he observed prepa- 
rations going on in the square. The guillotine is always erected 
between eleven and twelve o'clock on the night previous to the 
execution. 

I was therefore aroused by his messenger at six o'clock a. m. 
I made such good haste, that I was dressed and on the spot at 
twenty minutes past six — having arrived there by running all the 
way, about two miles. I found quite a crowd already assembled, 
but it being some time before the fatal hour, I had leisure to in- 
spect the instrument minutely. On a platform erected four or 
five feet above the ground, supported by legs and surrounded by 
a railing, was a frame work rising to the height of between eight 
and ten feet. Those, who have witnessed the operation of a spile- 
driver, will conceive a very good idea of its action and appear- 
ance. The whole was painted red. The cutting instrument re- 
sembled a yankee hay-cutter, except that it was much larger. 
One corner, being placed lower down than the other, facilitated 
its operation. The axe, or knife, was fixed into a heavy block of 
metal, and drawn up nearly to the top of the frame. There it 
remained dull and sullen, like revenge awaiting its opportunity. 
Two companies of mounted municipal guards, and one of foot, 
with some twenty Sergents de ville kept the square open till eight 
o'clock, the fixed hour. In the meantime the crowd augmented, 
and the women began to be quite numerous. One old woman 
was peddling a biography of the victim, and another endeavoring 
to let her stands and chairs, both screaming their merchandize at 
the top of their voices. 

At eight o'clock precisely came the guard of cavalry at a fast 
trot, surrounding the covered cart, which contained the prisoner 
and a priest. The vehicle was backed up to the scaffold, the 
door behind was opened, the priest descended, and after him the 
criminal. The latter mounted the scaffold, accompanied by two 
officers, with a firm step. He was clothed in his usual dress, a 
blouse of blue cloth, but without a hat. The hair was cut short, 
that it might form no impediment to his speedy exit from the 



EXECUTION BY THE GUILLOTINE. 255 



world. The officers quickly drew the blouse over his head, and 
he stood exposed with naked shoulders. He then began to 
scream with the intention of making himself heard by the crowd, 
as I thought, but like many unaccustomed orators, ignorant how 
to use his voice. It might have been an ebullition of either 
anger or fear. In France the liberty of speech is not permitted, 
and he was interrupted by the officers, bending his neck, and 
placing his head in the groove, destined to receive it. The collar, 
which was intended to check the least movement, was adjusted, 
and like the weight in the spile-driver on our wharves, the axe 
was drawn up to the top by the officers. It was instantly disen- 
gaged, and dropped ; the head, dissevered completely, fell into a 
basket, and this officer's duty being finished, he descended. Two 
minutes did not elapse from the time he arrived, till his head was 
detached from his body. Without the smallest loss of time it 
was tumbled into a vehicle, similar to a hay-cart, his body tipped 
in after it, a small guard escorted it beyond the barrier, and in 
five minutes from the entrance of the prisoner he was borne away, 
and the place left nearly vacant. The body was conveyed away 
for interment without the city for some hour or two, to be dug 
up again, and carried to the dissecting room for anatomical pur- 
poses. 

There are many methods of leaving the world, but I cannot 
imagine one, which could be less painful and more agreeable, 
than this — if any method of dying may be styled so ; — with the 
single, but rather unpleasant exception of the scaffold, none cer- 
tainly could be more expeditious. How much superior to hang- 
ing, where the criminal struggles long and hard often from the 
ignorance or carelessness of the hangman ! From the guillotine, 
no pain can possibly be experienced. 

Amateurs can see the operation of this celebrated instrument 
on a dog for twenty francs, on giving notice of their desire to 
the officer a week in advance. Jack Ketches of other countries 
have free admittance. 

In regard to the victim on this occasion, he most richly merited 
his doom. It is true, as you will surmise, he was sentenced for 
an attempt to murder. The French law is in this respect much 



256 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

better than our own, which does not hang, unless the homicide 
is actually committed. In this case, I think it best " to take the 
will for the deed." The deceased was a species of pedlar, and 
had a boutique ambulant. He had several times attempted his 
wife's life, by hanging cords with nooses attached in blind pas- 
sages, and for many months daily threatened her with death, 
beating her cruelly when alone, and kicking her legs under the 
table, when any one was present. He frequently boasted of 
having killed a mistress some time previously. In short, his 
whole history, which I read upon the spot, so much incensed me 
against him, that, when I saw his wicked looking countenance, I 
forgot that a man was to be executed, and remembered only the 
horrid cruelty of the miscreant. I saw him beating the head of 
his defenceless wife with a hammer. I saw her skull fractured 
in two or three places. I saw her delirious at the Hotel Dieu. — 
I fancied her restored to health, to be sure, but with a debilitated 
constitution and an imperfect mind, and I looked forward impa- 
tiently for the time, when he should receive his just recompense. 
When his head and body were carelessly tumbled into a common 
cart, I thought not of the deed of horror, of which I had just 
been a spectator, and was scarcely conscious for several hours, 
that human life had been deliberately taken ; even then, if I must 
eonfess it, without evidencing that tenderness of heart, and deli- 
cacy of sensibility, so beautiful, it is said, in a young man. 

An individual, it is agreed, by all people of sense, may take 
life in necessary self-defence. What may be thus done by one 
mav be done by another, and so society becomes invested with 
the same high prerogative, as a dernier resource. I do not ac- 
knowledge myself under any obligation to incur the trouble, ex- 
pense and risk, of chaining a wild beast of a man, to keep him 
from preying on his fellow-men. The virtuous portion of the 
community is not bound, and sometimes is not able, to waste the 
fruits of its hard and honest labor, in building penitentiaries, in 
which the worthless, ay, and still dangerous existence of a demon, 
may be carefully prolonged, and his body clothed and fed — often 
much better than the poor, who are taxed to pay for it — till the 
culprit shall be pardoned by an impotent or corrupt executive, to 



AMERICAN SPECIMEN. 257 

vex the country again with his murders and conflagrations ; or till 
a natural death shall do for the people, what they had not the 
firmness to do for themselves — rid them of an enormous and 
perilous burden, not imposed by any dictate of natural law. 

I have been to-day for the twentieth time, to the Garden of 
Plants. I beg you will not think I intend to give a dry bio- 
graphical sketch of every monkey, and bear and lion, that are to be 
seen there, to tell you how much the big elephant weighs, or 
how high is the cameleopard. No. The live specimens of almost 
every animal in the world, birds of every clime, and plants and 
shrubs of every temperature, I had often seen, but, to-day, I 
went into the cabinets. There I saw the same animals dead, but 
much better stuffed, than the living ; fishes swimming in alcohol ; 
some thousands of birds standing on one leg, and looking very 
sharply at one another, with glass eyes; among them looking 
equally sharp, a representative of the American Eagle — the 
" Governor of Coney Island," who says "I am the Governor of 
Coney Island — probably as well known, as any man in New- York. 
I've been to Europe fifteen times, Spain five, Russia six, England 
nine times, and traveled more in France, than any man, that ever 
lived. Poh ! these things are nothing ; in Rome they are twice 
as fine ; I have just come from there ; I am a wine merchant, 
that's why I travel so much. The Bible don't forbid selling wine, 
I am very temperate myself. Scarcely ever drink myself. The 
Bible forbids gluttony just as much, as it does wine bibbing ;" and 
thus he went on without interruption, occasionally deigning to look 
over his spectacles, especially at some stones of different colors, 
which had papers attached to them, on which were written great 
long names with gold and silver after them. Really interesting 
were those names. Glass cases, with iron railings around, con- 
taining bits of paper with "Diamonds," "Topaz," "Emeralds," 
written on them, all in large letters, and by them little bits of 
glass of different colors. — I had written so far, when I received 
your letter, saying, that you " trusted, that I would give some 
description of the Garden of Plants." I read this deliberately 
over, and concluded, that, what is just said, would scarcely an- 
swer after such a requisition from another hemisphere. In a 
15* 



258 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

future letter, therefore, I must endeavor to give a more pre- 
cise account. Rely upon having the statistics of the length of 
every monkey's tail, &c. &c. 

Military music, though of an ordinary quality, as it generally is 
in America, still almost always inspires a degree of enthusiasm, 
even in hearts not particularly liable to melt. I think by this 
time you must have begun to suspect me of not a little fondness 
for "the heavenly maid." So far from denying the charge, I 
proceed to confess a most delightful flirtation on a late occasion. 
It happened thus. The National Guard, and the troops of the 
line, went to the chateau of the Tuilleries to salute the king on 
his birth-day. The clergy had finished their errand, and the de- 
putation marched out. The great court was then filled with 
all the drummers in Paris, who, together, some five hundred, 
made a tremendous tapage for some time. When they had finish- 
ed, the band of each regiment marched up, one at a time, and 
played a piece of music of some minutes in length. This concert 
lasted nearly two hours, the king, queen, count de Paris, and 
others of the royal family, being all the time at the open win- 
dows, listening. The king wore the uniform of the National 
Guard. Each of the above mentioned bands consists of about 
thirty performers, and the music is very excellent. It is not won- 
derful that his majesty was seen to applaud. Such military music 
is not to be heard in every city of Europe. At sunset the cannon 
at the Hotel des Invalides fired a royal salute for the monarch. 
The little applause which he received from the crowd was heart- 
sickening. I believe I felt more loyalty myself, than most of the 
persons there. The little count de Paris was more favorably re- 
garded, and quite a perceptible murmur ran among the multitude 
on his appearance. Indeed, he did look very pretty wi^.h his 
little white glazed cap, velvet spencer, and white pants. I was 
standing near the entrance when he arrived. It is a curious 
sight for a republican to notice the parade made for a little child, 
whose name is a great deal longer than his body. First came a 
domestic in red and gold livery on horseback to announce his 
approach, and prepare the route. A carriage, drawn by four 
horses, and guided by two postilions in a livery of blue and 



ANECDOTES CURIEUSES. 259 

silver, followed. Behind the carriage were two lackeys also in 
blue. After these came another servant in blue, too, whose duty- 
it would, perhaps, be difficult to tell. The trumpets sounded, 
the guard saluted, the crowd made way, the carriage stopped at 
the door, the domestic opened it, and " parvus lulus" and his 
mother, alighted ; — " Parturiunt montes, nascitur," — but my new- 
born loyalty blotted out the rest. 



Note. — From ike guillotine no pain can be experienced. The 
Boston Daily Journal, on publishing a considerable extract from 
this letter, soon after it appeared in the Newark Daily, discours- 
ed in the following pleasant way : — 

"Doctors differ — and in no case more widely than in this. 
While some learned physiologists are of opinion, that death by 
beheading is attended with less actual pain than any other man- 
ner of death, and is, therefore, the most humane mode of disem- 
barrassing society of a villain ; others contend, and adduce an 
equally formidable array of facts, to show that intense agony is 
experienced, after decollation, in both the head and the body ; 
and death by the guillotine, so far from being easier than hang- 
ing, is one of the most painful known ! No one has yet been able 
to describe the peculiar sensations, which attend the separation of 
the head from the body ; but many curious facts have been col- 
lected, which may serve to throw some little, and but a little, 
light on the subject. 

" It is related, that a professor of Physiology, at Genoa, who 
has made this interesting subject his particular study, states that 
* having exposed two heads, a quarter of an hour after decolla- 
tion, to a strong light, the eyelids closed suddenly. The tongue, 
which protruded from the lips, being pricked with a needle, was 
drawn back into the mouth, and the countenance expressed sud- 
den pain.' The head of a criminal, named Tillier, being submit- 
ted to examination after the guillotine, the eyes turned in every 
direction, from whence he was called by name. 

" Fontenelle declares, that he has frequently seen the heads of 
guillotined persons move their lips, as if they were uttering re- 



260 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

monstrances against their cruel treatment. If this be so, there is 
nothing very incredible in the report, sometimes treated as fabu- 
lous, that when the executioner gave a blow on the face to 
Charlotte Corday, after the head was severed from the body, the 
countenance expressed violent indignation ! 

" In addition to the above facts — it may not be improper to 
add, that we have seen it stated, and it may he true, although* 
we must confess, we have not hitherto altogether credited it, that 
some galvanic experiments were once tried on the body of an 
habitual snuff-taker, after he had undergone the operation of be- 
ing guillotined. On receiving the first shock, the headless trunk 
joined its thumb and fore-finger, and deliberately raised its right 
arm, as if in the act of taking its customary pinch — and seemed 
mush astonished and perplexed at finding no nose to receive its 
wonted tribute ! 

" But the most marvelous tale is told of Sir Kenelm Digby, 
who was beheaded for high treason, in 1606. After the head 
was struck off, the executioner proceeded, according to. the bar- 
barous usages of the day, to pluck the heart from his body, and, 
when he had done so, he held it up in full view of the numerous 
assemblages of people, who had gathered round the scaffold to 
witness the exhibition — and shouted with a loud voice, This is the 
heart of a traitor ! Upon which the head, which was quietly 
resting on the scaffold, at the distance of a few feet, showed sundry 
signs of indignation, and, opening its mouth, audibly exclaimed, 
' That is a lief 

"These anecdotes, however, do not prove that there is any 
thing very painful in undergoing the operation of beheading ; and, 
if they can be credited, they show that the pain is not so intense 
as to affect the reasoning faculties. And fortunately for criminals 
condemned to decapitation, although unfortunately for some of 
the theorists, a case occurred some years ago, in Ticonderoga, 
N". Y., which settles the question, as far as the body is concerned, 
and proves that no sensations whatever can exist in the body, 
after its connection with the brain is dissolved. The case is a 
curious one, and we give it as related in the Boston Medical and 
Surgical Journal at the time : 



DISLOCATION OF THE CERVIX. 261 

" ' E. D., aged fifty, a man of hale constitution and robust, in 
making an effort to scale a board fence, was suddenly precipitated 
backwards to the ground ; striking first upon the superior and 
anterior portion of the head, which luxated the dentatus anter- 
iorly on the third cervical vertebra. He was at length discover- 
ed, and taken in (as the patient said) after he had lain nearly an 
hour, in a condition perfectly bereft of voluntary motion ; but, 
being present, I did not even suspect, that the power of sensa- 
tion was also gone, until the patient (whose speech remained 
almost, or quite, perfect, and who was uncommonly loquacious 
at that time) said, did he not know to the contrary, he should 
think that he had no body. His flesh was then punctured, and 
sometimes deeply, even from the feet to the neck ; but the patient 
gave no evidence of feeling, and, when interrogated, answered, that 
he felt nothing ; " and," added he, " I never was more perfect- 
ly free from pain in my life ;" but he remarked that he could not 
live, and accordingly sent for his family, twelve miles distant, 
and arranged all his various concerns in a perfectly sane manner. 

" ' The head was thrown back in such a position as to forbid his 
seeing his body. The pulse was much more sluggish, than 
natural. Respiration and speech but slightly affected, were 
gradually failing ; but he could articulate distinctly, until within 
a few minutes of his death. All the senses of the head remain- 
ed quite perfect to the last. He died forty-eight hours after the 
fall. 

" ' Repeated attempts were made to reduce the dislocation, but 
the transverse processes had become so interlocked, that every 
effort proved abortive. There was undoubtedly in this case, a 
perfect compression of the spinal marrow, which prevented the 
egress of nervous influence from the brain, while the pneumogas- 
tric nerve remained unembarrassed.' " 

To this article, a correspondent of the Newark Daily replied 
in this strain. 

" In quoting from the Paris letter the account of an execution 
by the guillotine, the Boston Journal appends a number of striking 
cases, not so much indeed to prove that pain accompanies the 
mode of execution mentioned, as to convey an impression, that 



262 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

sensation, and even intelligenee, have, in several instances, sur- 
vived the separation of the head from the body. They are all 
very much in point, as the lawyers say, but that of Sir Kenelm 
(Sir Everard?) Digby, who was beheaded in 1606 for being con- 
cerned in the famous, or rather infamous, Gunpowder Plot, is 
very remarkable, and I take leave to transcribe it. ' After the 
head was struck off, the executioner proceeded, according to the 
barbarous usages of the day, to pluck the heart from his body, 
and, when he had done so, he held it up in full view of the 
numerous assemblage of people, who had gathered around the 
scaffold to witness the exhibition — and shouted with a loud voice, 
this is the heart of a traitor ! Upon which, the head, which was 
quietly resting on a scaffold at a distance of a few feet, showed 
sundry signs of indignation, and, opening its mouth, audibly ex- 
claimed, ' That is a lie /' " 

This piece of history shows conclusively the superiority of this 
mode of capital punishment, as it leaves the culprit afterwards 
perfectly free to take care of his posthumous reputation, which 
would be very convenient in all cases, but, more especially, when 
a man suffers by judgment of law. JSTo other kind of death, by 
public execution or otherwise, secures this inestimable privilege. 

But what I had in view in citing the case of Sir Everard, was 
this, that a great many years ago, alas ! I am afraid to tell how 
many, I read a portion of history, corroborating in a remarkable 
manner the anecdote of the English knight. I do not now allude 
to that singular people, who are in the habit of carrying their 
heads under their arms, but to the conjuror in the Arabian Nights, 
who, in consequence of a failure, I don't recollect what, in some 
of his necromancy, was decollated by order, and in the very pres- 
ence of the sultan. The head of the sorcerer, after separation 
from his body, sat up erect upon the floor, and with a mysterious 
expression of countenance, informed his highness, that, as he 
rather thought, he should have no further occasion for his books 
of magic, he would make a present of them to him ; and, since 
he could not very well go to fetch them himself, if his highness 
would take the trouble to send for them, he would instruct him 
in their use. On being brought he told the sultan, it was first 



PLEASURES OF DECAPITATION. 263 

necessary for him to turn over every leaf in the books from the 
beginning to the end. But he found it was impossible to do this, 
as they stuck together, without often wetting his fingers at his 
mouth. This infused into the monarch's veins a subtle and viru- 
lent venom, as the books were poisoned, in consequence of which 
he died very soon in torture, overwhelmed with the taunts and 
curses of the decapitated head. 

In this instance, the loss of a head seems so far from having 
been attended with pain, that, on the contrary, the insulted mem- 
ber enjoyed the pleasure of revenge, which it probably never 
would have done, if it had been suffered to remain upon the 
magician's shoulders. This is probably the most eligible situa- 
tion for a head, but as it would appear from the authorities in 
the Journal, and elsewhere, the next best disposition that can be 
made of it, is to slice it off skilfully with the guillotine. 



XXXIX. 

The Garden of Plants— School of Botany — Menagerie — Men and 
Monkeys — Beneficial Effects from Alcohol. 

Op all the celebrated wonders, which adorn this capital, none 
are more worthy of attention and combine more beauty with real 
utility, than the far-famed Jardin des Plantes. Agreeably to 
your request, I proceed to give a cursory account of it, for a 
minute one could only be done with a statistical account of bird 
and beast. The name would lead one to suppose, that it was 
merely a large garden, as it indeed imports, remarkable for the 
taste displayed in the arrangement and great variety of trees, 
shrubs, and flowers, that adorn it. The botanist, who regards 
this portion only, will tell you so. The comparative anatomist 
will however show you its cabinets devoted to his favorite depart- 
ment, rich in the dry bones of this and past ages ; in skulls and 
skeletons of all animals, and men of all nations. The geologist 
will expatiate with rapture on the collections of stones arranged 
in glass cases under glittering walls, which have not the least in- 
terest perhaps to you. The little child will point you to the big 
elephant and the roaring tigers. In short, every taste finds grati- 
fication here, and it is now my task to present such a camera 
obscura view, as you can obtain from a distance, with as little 
dullness as possible. 

Such a collection of various rare and beautiful objects cannot 
be the work of a day ; in fact, for ages since 1635, the world has 
been constantly contributing to make these cabinets perfect. In 
this year, at the solicitation of Herouard and Guy de la Brosse, 
the physicians of Louis XIII., this monarch founded this garden. 
In 1*739 the immortal Buffon was appointed superintendent, who 
devoted himself with great energy to the advancement of its 

264 



JARDIN DES PLANTES. 265 

prosperity, till his death in 1788. The list of others of inferior 
reputation, but who by their zeal have aided in its advancement, 
is too long for this communication. The revolutionary spirit, 
which ravaged almost all the universities and public institutions, 
for various reasons respected this, and passed it by untouched, 
It suffered however very much from neglect, and deteriorated 
from the want of funds. Bonaparte with the same zeal, with 
which he gave himself to the embellishment of the city in general, 
and enhancing the beauty of its numerous galleries and public 
places, strove to repair the faults of the reign of Terror, and by 
the fruits of conquest filled it with most valuable objects. At 
his fall, some of these were returned, but many being retained, 
the garden on the whole was much the gainer. The magnificent 
cabinet of the Stadtholder was claimed, but its equivalent in du- 
plicates only was returned. Several valuable jewels were re- 
claimed by the Pope, and books and objects of natural history 
returned to individuals, who were the original owners. The in- 
stitution now flourishes with unaccustomed vigor. It is a favorite 
object of government, and large sums are annually devoted to 
increasing and beautifying its cabinets, and paying for the sup- 
port of the numerous professors of various sciences attached to 
it. Many courses of lectures are delivered between the months 
of April and October, to which all have free admission. 

The garden is situated in the extreme eastern part of the city 
on the banks of the Seine, separated from the river by the Quai 
Bernard. It is in close proximity to the immense hospice or alms- 
house la Salpetri&re spoken of in another letter. Several entran- 
ces give inlet from different directions to the student, the laborer, 
the curious, and the lover of pleasure. Its spacious walks are 
always thronged. Its different portions formed into divisions 
and appropriated to particular purposes. On the right is the 
menagerie ; on the left specimens of noble forest trees. Be- 
fore are the beds for small plants and the nurseries which contain 
the different varieties of medicinal, perennial, exotic and indigen- 
ous plants, shoots and flowers. A portion of this is separated 
from what is called the school of botany, to which is attached a 
small green-house. Near this is a green-house of large extent, 



S66 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

built of cast iron, and warmed by steam. Its high walls are 
lofty enough to contain the largest tropical plants, of which there 
is a great variety. Every tree and plant within the conservatoires 
and in the open air has either the name attached to it, or a num- 
ber ; so that the curious can easily learn the character of every 
specimen. Among the most remarkable of the contents of the 
garden is a cedar of Lebanon, which was presented in 1734 by 
Collinson, an Englishman. It is now eleven feet in circumference 
at the base ; also two Sicilian palms, twenty-five feet in height, 
which were given to Louis XIV. The total number of plants is 
twelve thousand. 

The menagerie attracts the most attention ; but it has suffered 
much from the prevalence of cold during the last winter, and 
many of the animals have died. The first public menagerie was 
formed at Versailles by Louis XIV. at the instigation of the 
Academy of Sciences, which increased in value till the revolution, 
when many of the animals were starved to death. In 1794 the 
remnant were removed to this place. Since the present reign 
this portion of the garden has been greatly extended, and con- 
stant additions are being made. It now forms a most picturesque 
appearance. The ground is divided by winding walks and light 
fences into enclosures, in which are the tame animals ; such as 
various kinds of deer, the American bison, sheep, goats, zebras, 
camels, &c. These parks are of considerable extent, allowing 
exercise and pasturage upon the green grass, that carpets them. 
The animals are generally in pairs ; and at this season their young 
offspring are often gamboling with them. In another place, are 
specimens of the ostrich from South America and Africa, whose 
fine plumage resembles more the feathers in the ladies' hats, than 
those on the meagre birds seen in our traveling menageries. In 
a still larger enclosure, in the form of a circle, with a pond in the 
centre, are the tropical and aquatic birds, whose shrill cries re- 
mind one of the descriptions of Robinson Crusoe. Here are the 
graceful swans, many varieties of ducks and geese, and the fish- 
eating birds of the warm latitudes. The empire of this enclosure 
has many claimants. The vain bird of Paradise spreads out its 
broad title, whenever he can find any one to pay him attention ; 



EMBRYO MAN. 267 



the strutting turkey-cock thinks his pretensions indisputable ; and 
the valiant little bantam dares any one to doubt his superior 
claims. In spacious cages separated from the walk by an iron 
fence, which keeps the multitude from approaching within a 
distance of four feet, are confined lions, hyenas, leopards, ana- 
condas of monstrous length, lizards and others. The volerie 
contains vultures, eagles, buzzards, hawks, in numerous varieties ; 
singing birds and others of the gay plumage of foreign climes. 
A crowd is always collected round the large space, in which 
are kept the monkeys. The whole is covered with a wire roof, 
which keeps them from escaping ; and in this spacious cage, 
almost free from restraint, they gambol, running from " pillar to 
post," now mounting to the summit, and a moment after sliding 
to the bottom by means of a pendent rope. Thus they sport day 
after day, screaming and quarreling, without wearying either 
themselves or the delighted spectators, who stand for hours to- 
gether under the rays of a broiling sun in this unsheltered place. 
The embryo man is a decided and universal favorite among the 
Parisians, who have doubtless been recently more gratified with 
the reported discovery of a new family of monkeys, than if it had 
been another planet, or the northwest passage. In a building, 
denominated from its shape, the Rotunda, are confined a great 
many kinds of the more bulky animals, among which the lofty- 
giraffe, and the ponderous elephant, are most conspicuous. Both 
these are extremely tame, and receive liberal donations of bread, 
with which the visitants are generally well supplied. In the 
company of the largest elephant are two tapirs, who share with 
her the muddy pond in the centre of the ground. The king is 
desirous of adding the American Indians, now on exhibition here 
by Mr. Catlin, to this collection ; but the price is probably too 
high. The large Siberian and American bears are in sunken 
courts with cells, and afford much amusement to the public in 
climbing the dead tree, placed in the middle, catching the bread 
thrown to them, and playing with one another. Comprehensive 
as the menagerie is at present, additional room has been appro- 
priated for its extension, and it will soon comprise a specimen of 
almost every rare creature in the world. Sea captains and tra- 



268 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

vellers make frequent contributions ; and it receives ample acces- 
sions from the gifts of foreign princes, and the munificence of the 
government. 

In connection with the living animals we must not forget the 
dead, which are still more numerous, and form a Cabinet of 
Zoology, the most complete perhaps in the world, reckoning one 
hundred and fifty thousand specimens. The edifice appropriated 
to it is simple in its construction, three stories in height, and 
three hundred and ninety feet in length. At every step I per- 
ceive memorials of the renowned Baron Cuvier, according to 
whose system, the splendid contents are arranged. The collec- 
tion of mammalia, representing five hundred species, is upwards 
of fifteen hundred in number. This receives constant additions 
from the death of members of the menagerie, as well as contri- 
butions from abroad. So perfectly are the animals preserved, 
that their appearance is equally fine with the live ones in the 
adjoining yard. The collection of birds, numbering over six 
thousand, is a sight that gratifies universally. Independently 
of any scientific view, their rich gaudy colors have a charm, which 
the most uneducated can appreciate. There they sit, day after 
day, a row of black, a row of blue, or any other color ; their 
sleepless glass eyes always open and brilliant ; their limbs never 
weary, though standing incessantly on one leg by the month 
together. From the ceiling are suspended turtles of every de- 
scription, from individuals that weigh seven or eight hundred 
pounds, to the minutest samples, which squat on planks, float- 
ing on the sides of any of our muddy ponds. Lizards of every 
hue ; frogs, professors of the art of natation, and snakes, whose 
method of progression, more wonderful than the locomotive, 
puzzled the wise Solomon to discover, are congregated here in 
infinite variety. Alcohol, which destroys the living man, pre- 
serves the defunct animals, to which use it is most properly ap- 
plied. The department of fishes comprises duplicate specimens 
of twenty-five hundred species. Of the smaller, one is preserved 
in spirits, and the other dried and varnished. 

Twenty-five thousand specimens compose the cabinet of artic- 
ulated animals without vertebrae, and very numerous samples 



CHAIN OF BEING. 269 



form that of the inarticulated animals. These two classes com- 
prise all the insects and shells ; among them are the varieties of 
the nautilus, tridachna, also the corals and sponge. 

The whole collection is in the most perfect condition, enclosed 
in glass cases, and arranged in systematic order : so that one can 
distinctly trace the progressive grades in animated nature. Be- 
ginning with the sponge, the lowest order of animal organization, 
and proceeding from one specimen to another, link by link, we 
see the great chain of nature running through the monkey, ba- 
boon, hottentot, African, Asian, American Indian, and ending in 
the European, the noblest specimen of man. Does the chain 
stop there ? On the contrary, must we not believe, with the 
Bible and Locke, that it traverses the shining order of spiritual 
beings, rank above rank, through the seraphic host, up to the 
Divinity himself ! 

The Cabinet of Comparative Anatomy is one of the most inter- 
esting, and, like the former, is infinitely indebted to the incessant 
exertions of Cuvier. The edifice, which contains it, is of older 
construction, than the others. At the great door of entrance 
are deposited two immense jaw bones of a whale. Many other 
specimens may be seen within, including the skeleton of a sea cow, 
brought by Capt. Parry from the North Pole. Skeletons of the 
human species from almost every nation in the world allow com- 
parisons to be instituted between the varieties of the human ani- 
mal ; among the most curious of which is Bebe, the celebrated 
Polish dwarf, who lived to the age of eighty years. The valiant 
Gen. Tom Thumb, beats him, I hear, in littleness. 

There are various anatomical preparations of muscles, brains, 
eyes, viscera, &c. of animals, disposed in such order, as makes 
comparison easy. An extensive collection of casts of the heads 
of many distinguished individuals possesses a rare interest to the 
craniologist. This Cabinet is the richest in existence, and de- 
serves a particular description, without which nothing but a very 
feeble idea indeed can be imparted ; but this is not the place for 
so minute an account, as would be necessary to make a sketch 
useful, or even intelligible. 

To the illiterate, the universe seems full of mineral, vegetable, 
16 



270 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

and animal creations, scattered abroad in fortuitous fragments, 
and involved in inextricable confusion. Such was once the con- 
dition of all knowledge, or rather ignorance, before science — at 
first the offspring, afterwards the guide of man — pronounced the 
mighty mandate, " Let there be light," and at once these disjecta 
membra hastened to arrange themselves in their natural and beau- 
tiful order, and a consistent whole sprang forth in just and grand 
proportions. The possibility of calling order out of all this chaos, 
and combining its confused elements into a system, must have 
appeared one of the absurdest of dreams. At this epoch of sci- 
ence, a sudden introduction to such a universe, though but in min- 
iature, as the Garden of Plants presents, would have disclosed 
an absolutely new creation ; in a revised edition it is true, and 
much amended and improved in accordance with the laws of sci- 
ence. And this microcosm cannot be viewed even now, without 
experiencing, as it were, a new revelation of the Creator, in the 
unexpected lights, that burst upon the spectator, of the relations 
and design of his omnipotent productions. What was before 
imagined to be a chaos of chance is proved to be the symmetry 
of a fixed purpose ; and the infinite wisdom and power, which 
the infant or barbarous man could always behold and adore in 
the stellar and planetary worlds, are now found to pervade the 
whole, even the minutest, and, if I may say so, the most neglect- 
ed portions of the works of God. 

I pass over the superb collection of casts of the heads of distin- 
guished and extraordinary persons, and other objects very reluc- 
tantly, with a simple mention, because there really seems no 
middle course between such a notice and a volume, which would 
be required for a description of any one of them.— To continue 
my sketch. 

In a new building, which is not wanting in pretensions to ar- 
chitectural beauty, erected for the express purpose, is the Mine- 
ralogical and Geological Gallery, containing more than sixty thou- 
sand specimens. These are arranged in a long hall, running 
nearly the entire length of the structure, in cases on the walls, 
and in tables along the sides and in the centre, also upon the 
galleries which surround it. The specimens are all under glass, 



STATUE OF CUVIER. 271 

and labeled scientifically and popularly. The principal ornament 
of the room is an exquisitely chiseled statue of the immortal 
Cuvier, by David. He is represented in an erect position, clothed 
in the rich robes of the Royal Council of the University ; his 
head is slightly bent, his face noble and full of thought. He 
holds a spheroid, in which is a considerable opening, emblemati- 
cal of his profound researches into the bosom of the earth. By 
his side, on a slab, is -the most eloquent of all inscriptions, — the 
titles of his literary and scientific works. Before this chef d'ceuvre 
are two marble tables, inlaid with florentine mosaic, most beau- 
tifully executed — and a table, of which the top is a specimen of 
every marble of Spain, cut in a square, and forming an exquisite 
patchwork. This was a present from one of the kings of that 
country many years since to this museum. The galleries on one 
side contain all the known rocks and earths, geologically arrang- 
ed ; and on the other, the fossils which are found in them. 

The mineralogical collection is divided into four grand classes, 
viz ; earths, containing an acid ; earthy substances or stones ; 
inflammable materials, and metals. There are various kinds of 
spar ; precious stones of all sorts, including diamonds of every 
color, without mentioning inferior ones, called rubies and eme- 
ralds, which are quite cast into the shade by the unrivalled bril- 
liancy of the choicest of gems. Vases and crystals of colorless 
quartz, agate, chalcedony, lapis lazuli, &c, attract the unskilled 
eye. A large piece of native gold in nearly a pure state is dis- 
played, which weighs sixteen and a quarter ounces. This cabi- 
net was much improved by a donation made in 1825 by Charles 
X., of a fine collection, bought by the civil list for sixty thousand 
dollars. Additions are constantly made. Every encouragement 
is given to the student by the professors, who are assiduous in 
their efforts to explain and aid the stranger. In one of the gal- 
leries are specimens of the skeleton of the mammoth, found in 
the caves of Ohio, but much inferior to those to be seen at home ; 
also of the elephants found in Siberia. 

This is a very meagre account of the minerals, I confess ; and, 
if there were room, which there is not, to draw even an outline 
of them, it would ill become me to attempt such a thing — me, 



272 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

who regard earths as good for nothing, but the nutrition of grain y 
cotton and grass ; rock not as a chronometer to tell how old the 
world is, but, merely as furnishing a missile to throw at a dog, 
who disturbs my night's repose with baying at the moon, or a 
weapon to extinguish the caterwauling gentry, against whom I 
would willingly with all my might cast the choicest piece of gra- 
nite in the whole cabinet, even if I knew that its felspar and mica 
had been coupled in their everlasting union more than one hun- 
dred thousand years ago. Cats however — and it is a remarkable 
fact — are never heard of in Paris, any more than fires. The rea- 
son of this must be left to the decision of the Epicurean philoso- 
pher, simply remarking, that this scarcity accounts for the lean- 
ness of the collection in that branch of natural history. 

At one end of this last mentioned gallery, and in a manner 
continuous with it, is the Botanical Gallery, founded by Vaillant. 
The general herbal contains more than fifty thousand species. 
There are besides separate ones of New Holland, India, Egypt, 
and many more, which served as models for various works, as 
that of Humboldt and others. Here, too, are specimens of the 
woods, barks, roots and foliage of the trees of every climate. 
With this collection and the living specimen in the green houses, 
one, well studied, would never be at a loss to know the name of 
a plant, or its nature, if wandering alone in the forests of the 
tropics. Every wood is here found cut in different directions, 
thus showing its various appearances. The most curious of the 
whole are two cabinets, representing the fungus family, made in 
wax, and presented to the museum, one by Charles X., and the 
other by the Emperor of Austria. The former was executed by 
De Pinson, and is estimated at the value of four thousand dol- 
lars. Each specimen is exhibited in two views ; one whole, the 
other cut lengthwise, showing its interior construction. The num- 
ber of dried plants is more than three hundred and fifty thou- 
sand, and of grains, woods, and fruit, five thousand. The marble 
statue of Jussieu is of great beauty. The illustrious botanist is 
sculptured in the act of examining a flower, which he holds in 
his hand. It is a whole length, executed by Heral. 

The library numbers thirty thousand volumes, and fifteen thou- 



LIBRARY AND PORTFOLIOS. ( 273 

sand pamphlets ; but its most remarkable portion is its portfolios, 
ninety in number, which contain six thousand drawings, original 
designs, mostly upon vellum, figuring fruit and flowers. Nothing 
can exceed the wonderful beauty of this unrivalled collection, 
commenced in 1635, and valued now at more than four hundred 
thousand dollars. 

I have thus run through the enumeration of a small part of 
what to see alone requires days, and many years to know. Suffi- 
cient has been said, perhaps, to give some idea of its greatness, 
its excellence and beauty. 



XL. 

HOPITAL DE LA PlTIE LlSFRANC VELPEAU LoUIS BOURGEOIS MAR- 
RIAGE and Wedding Festivities — The two Milliners — A tender- 
hearted Lawyer. 

Behind the Jardin des Plantes is tlie Hopital de la PitiS, 
founded in 1612, formerly an asylum for orphan children; but 
since 1809 attached to the Hotel Dieu, and containing patients of all 
classes. It is most noticeable for being the one to which Lis- 
franc is attached. This great man, if talent can make one so, and 
one of the most skilful surgeons, not only in Paris, but the world, 
is now advanced in years. His fine head is crowned, like Mount 
Blanc, by the snows of many winters, his locks being perfectly 
blanched. His face is expanded and noble ; his eyes black and 
gleaming ; his nose slightly Roman ; his mouth large. As a man 
he is said to be very rough and jockeyish, and as a public character, 
in which light only have I seen him, he is evidently a person of 
extremely high and irritable feelings. He is abundantly skilful in 
his operations, possessing at the same time an unerring judgment. 
In his lectures his tones of voice are most remarkable. After 
going on in a very low strain for a considerable time, so subdued 
indeed, that great effort is required to hear him at all, he bursts 
out all of a sudden, at the top of a most sonorous voice, making 
the walls ring again, waking all his sleepy listeners, and that too 
on a word, often the most unimportant of the whole sentence. 
With Velpeau he has often come into collision, in the Concours, 
and the battle has been desperately contested, victory sometimes 
bestowing her laurel on one, sometimes on the other. The con- 
sequence is, that a deadly animosity burns between them ; and 
they give it vent, at the same time adding new fuel to the flame, 
by calling each other hard names with the rough side of their 
tongues. Velpeau, speaking of him in his public lectures, calls 

274 



ANIMOSITIES OF THE LEARNED. 275 

him " that man, more remarkable for the sound of his voice, than 
any thing he ever said." Lisfranc, who hears the remark from 
some kind friendly gossip, seizes the first occasion, that presents 
itself, to throw the arrow back. He almost shrieks with excite- 
ment ; his arms are lifted above his head, or dashed upon the 
table before him ; he takes huge pinches of snuff in rapid succes- 
sion, while his countenance is contorted with anger ; but 
" The foe invulnerable still 
Foils his wild rage by steady skill." 

Rarely does Lisfranc begin a lecture without abusing his 
competitor; styling him, in revenge, "the little butcher of la 
Charite." This hatred, so virulent between these distinguished 
men, is not an uncommon occurrence in the city. It is one of 
the evils resulting from the system of Concours, to which I refer- 
red in one of my communications on the hospitals. A similar ill- 
will existed between the celebrated Dupuytren and Roux, which 
ceased only with the life of the former. They however restrain- 
ed their bitter feelings more within their own bosoms, and never 
allowed an entire lecture to be polluted with such railing, as dis- 
graces the two competitors of the present day. It is a melan- 
choly sight to see two old people quarreling, and Time standing 
near, ready to cut the victor down. Gray hairs should exhibit 
the mellowness along with the decay of age ; and can never hope 
to command respect, unless the fruit, as well as frost of time, is 
seen in their company. 

I was delighted, as you may suppose, to see cousin Ellen and 
her husband here. " What ! come for your health ? it is per- 
fectly ridiculous ;" and I succeeded so well in convincing her of 
her bonne sante, that she had half a mind to forego the object of 
her journey, which was to consult the great Louis. His charge, 
however, is so moderate — only two dollars — that an interview 
with him was considered by us all to be advisable ; for his deci- 
sion is a fiat. Accordingly I called on him at his residence, Rue 
de Menars, No. 8. While waiting for him in a handsomely fur- 
nished parlor, I turned over the books upon the table. Without 
exception, they were works of caricature. His intention must be, 
it would seem, to remove the trepidation and constraint, so 



276 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

natural to a patient, when approaching a person who is about to 
pronounce judgment, as it were, upon his chances of life. Thus 
restored to a balance in his feelings, the man of science can form 
a better opinion of his case. Will this fact account for the 
gayety of many celebrated medical men ? With a similar design 
the celebrated painter, Stuart, was accustomed to interest his 
sitters with the enchantment of his varied conversation. This 
brought into action the distinctive lineaments of the face, and dis- 
played their characters, if they had any. If they happened to 
possess none, which was often unfortunately the case, tant pis 
for the portrait, — no one could be more negligent of his work ; but 
on the contrary, if they were men of rank, or women of beauty, 
the qualities, for which they were known, were certain to live and 
breathe upon the canvas. 

"He would wait," he said, "upon the lady to-morrow morn- 
ing, at half-past nine o'clock; or if she would prefer it, she 
might call upon him ; the charge would be the same." An 
American would demand at least ten dollars for the same exam- 
ination at his own office. Is the high price of medical knowledge 
in America, the consequence, as that of corn in Europe is, of the 
badness of the crop ; or is it natural for the advice of the faculty 
to rise, like a balloon, in proportion to its want of weight ? 

Louis is the most eminent living physician, who attends to 
diseases of the chest, and his works are translated into every 
tongue. He has held various situations in the hospitals of the 
city; where his lectures attracted crowds of students. Now, 
however, he is placed at so great a distance from the Latin 
Quarter, that fewer attend his cliniques. Nevertheless, none con- 
sider that they have done all they ought to do, until they have 
availed themselves of the advantage of the Hopital Beaujon. 

Louis is tall and commanding in person, though somewhat 
stooping. His face, formerly quite full, is now rather thin, and 
deeply marked with thought ; an expression which is increased 
by his use of spectacles — quite uncommon among the Paris 
physicians. His hair, formerly light, is now silvered over. His 
whole appearance is German — I do not know his country — and 
calculated to induce one to repose confidence in him at a glance. 



LOUIS AND I. 277 



The meeting took place ; the important examination which had 
been sought at such a distance, so long, so anxiously, was over. 
" Madam, there is no disease of the lungs." Was it not worth 
the labor and expense of a voyage across the Atlantic ? More 
than two years, that have elapsed since that day, have set the 
seal of truth on our opinion ; pardon me the " our," if only to 
gratify my vanity in a momentary association of the two names. 

The French woman trips through the gravities and even solem- 
nities of life with the same flourish, and amount of forecast, that 
she would show in going through a waltz or polka. There are 
two sisters, young women, as they are called in Paris, of the ages 
of thirty-six and thirty-eight, whom their father at his death, 
some twenty years ago, left almost destitute. They have been 
industrious milliners all this time, and now possess five thousand 
dollars, it may be, between them. This, with the income of their 
business, enables them to live quite comfortably. They have 
their shop, and over it three or four other rooms, including a 
kitchen. Two of the apartments are let, and if the tenant is a 
foreigner, and can persuade the ladies to suffer him to take his 
dinner with them, it is accounted an enviable privilege ; for it is 
not easy for a visitor from another country to get domiciliated in 
a French family. 

One day the oldest of these girls discovered, that she had mo* 
ney enough to buy a husband, a luxury never to be had without 
a dowry. Matrimony here is commenced with the rule of Barter 
and Exchange, and ended with that of Tare and Fret. She se- 
lected an avocat by profession, but by practice a teacher, of about 
fifty years of age. On the second of this month they were le- 
gally married by a justice, and on the sixth remarried in the 
church of St. Sulpice. I saw the whole performance with all its 
fudge and mummery, and as such events are sure to fill a church, 
I don't see why it should not one of my pages. Each falling on 
both knees held a huge candle. This, to keep the white kid 
gloves from being soiled, had a band of velvet round it, the 
groom's of red color, the bride's of white. On the side of the 
candle towards the audience is stuck a coin given by the bride- 
groom for the purpose. This being visible to the company, a 
16* 



278 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

piece of gold, I think, will be often substituted for the five franc 
piece given on this occasion. The cunning originators of the rite 
were undoubtedly aware of our infirmity of ostentation. This 
money as well as five or ten francs for saying mass, as much 
more for the poor, the pay for chairs, and many other items, 
drops into the coffers of the church, which, like the crocodile's 
mouth, is always open. So exorbitant are these demands, ex- 
tracted for a rapacious hierachy by sacerdotal leeches, that the 
patience and pockets of the poor husband are pretty well ex- 
hausted. 

After the ceremony was over, at half-past one o'clock, the in- 
vited guests numbering thirty-five, proceeded to the apartments 
of the bridegroom to discuss a breakfast. Infinite delays occa- 
sioned by losing the key to the wines, and other accidents, put 
it off to half-past four o'clock. It was almost time to dine, so 
we were not offended to remark, that it differed in other respects 
very little from a dinner. This done, all separated to make pre- 
paration for the evening ball. For this, the entire house of the 
two sisters was put in requisition, the lodger's rooms and all. 
Two rooms were used for dancing, the tenants' for card-playing, 
and so on. Most French floors are uncarpeted ; as a compensa- 
tion they are beautifully waxed, and therefore always in prime 
order for a dance. All furniture was removed, benches covered 
with velvet ranged along the sides, and mirrors, which are adored 
all over the kingdom, covered the walls. 

At half-past nine o'clock the company began to assemble, and 
eighty or ninety were soon squeezed together, dancing, waltzing, 
and amusing themselves. If M. were here with her fastidious 
notions about waltzing, she would find herself in a minority of 
one ; which is quite too small to transact business, and barely 
enough even in Congress to make a report. Frenchmen, so far 
from deeming one arm around the waist objectionable, find it 
easier to waltz with both hands of the cavalier clasped behind 
her. When I shall teach you on my return the polka, deux 
temps waltz and the French quadrilles, we will have famous 
dancing. 

During the evening, some comic songs were sung; but, 



DURATION OF FRIENDSHIP. 279 

whether I am not yet sufficiently a proficient in the idiom 
to enjoy the jokes, or whether there were none, I am not able 
to determine ; it is my suspicion, that the French laugh easily, 
especially at marriages. Refreshments of hot grog — a very 
weak beverage, and disagreeable to me — orgeats, orange and 
other waters, were passed around. Beside these, there were 
fruits, and nuts glace, that is, covered with sugar, cakes of the 
most fragile character, very dry, and having the texture of the 
pith of a cornstalk. They use no such cake as ours. 

Thus we went on till half after four, when the company dis- 
persed ; some of whom had come from Rouen, ninety miles. 
The house being exceedingly discomposed, a few, who remained, 
sought repose till morning a la mode Arabique, with very slight 
regard to rank or sex, which are never spared by balls, in peace 
or war. 

So merrily went the marriage bell. But when Virginie began 
to realize, in the solitary stillness of the succeeding evening, that 
Julie, the partner of her bed and business for so many happy 
years, had gone away, and left her companionless in her home, 
she could no longer support the thought, and fell into violent 
hysterics. It was then that Monsieur Dumas, to comfort her, 
used the memorable words, afterwards so laughed at among 
their connexions, " Croyez bien, ma chere Virginie" said he, 
wringing his hands, and crying aloud, with streaming eyes, "Si 
vous etes malade, je serais toujour s a voire chevet." This little 
speech was reiterated by him so often and so dramatically, as to 
become a standing joke, which Virginie is no doubt cracking at 
this very hour. What gave it point was, that the moon, which 
lighted the guests to the marriage ball, was scarcely in the wane, 
before he persecuted her with a lawsuit — next to the inquisition, 
you know, in cruelty — about his wife's share of the partnership 
effects. This scandal should have been prevented, if possible, 
by Madame Dumas, since Virginie was the one whom Monsieur 
first addressed ; and she kindly passed him over to her sister, 
because she thought that, being the oldest, it was her birth-right 
to be married first. 

It cannot be disguised that my little milliners were extrava- 



280 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

gant, especially the capricious Virginie. They had their apart- 
ments for retreat on Sundays, from the heats of summer, at Au- 
teuil. I must admit, that their situation was delightful, near 
the Bois de Boulogne. Then, was it not extravagant for Virginie 
to pay a hundred dollars for a shawl, which she sometimes wore 
on such warm days, as to be obliged to carry it on her arm ? 
What vanity ! Worse still, she was the cause of the same folly 
in her sister. Become a madame now, the latter was not by any 
means to be outshone in dress. She therefore teazed her hus- 
band, till she got a shawl, of course more splendid still, which 
cost monsieur one hundred and twenty-five dollars. Ah ! these 
milliners have a charming taste ; and persuade their husbands 
that they prove it, in selecting them to pay their bills. 

My letters lately, I perceive, are tending to excessive length. 
This propensity must, if possible, be checked. I shall, therefore, 
nip off the runners, as the vine-dressers do, when I can, and now 
give you an earnest of my sincerity. 



XLI. 

HOW DO YOU LIKE PARIS ? — STYLE OF THE BUILDINGS — FlRES — FlRE DE- 
PARTMENT — Water — Common Sewers. 

Questions can be asked in Europe as well as America ; in 
France, as well as New England. We hear, very frequently, 
" How do you like France ?" " How do you like Paris ?" One 
must be pretty adroit to reply without nourishing or wounding na- 
tional vanity. This is a very sensitive plant, but I suspect, it 
was not altogether unknown before the discovery of America; 
though from the figure it makes in some of the late collections, it 
might be thought never to have been met with in European soils. 
Ten to one, it was imported along with the wearers of French silks, 
or English broadcloths, lurking beneath them, like the original 
cotton seed among tea. Our own indigenous botany is very well 
known to consist of a more rugged and substantial growth, such 
as potatoes and Indian corn, which, especially the former, must 
be admitted to be quite an awkward emblem of our imputed na- 
tional trait. For further information, the works of Mr. Dickens 
may be consulted, passim. He has treated this subject, as well 
as others, in such a natural and unexaggerated way, as to excite 
a wish, that he would devote his strikingly veracious talents to 
the exact sciences, or to an auto-biography, where of course the 
author would be precisely on a level with his subject, and 
like two distorting mirrors, would faithfully reflect each other. 

Having been some time now in this metropolis, I am better 
able to answer these queries, than at first. A person should not 
be in a hurry to break silence on arriving in a country, whose 
manners and customs are different from his own. It is neces- 
sary to see correctly, before he can judge properly. I do not 
281 



282 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 

mean to assert, that knowledge of the world comes to a man like 
nutrition to the air plant — by absorption ; but, if it is a fact, as 
it doubtless is, that all information reaches us, as Locke says, 
through the avenues of the senses, they ought to be kept in the 
very best repair, in order to transmit intelligence with accurate 
promptness without any special act of the will, as the iron rod 
constantly and quietly attracts the electric fluid fron the surround- 
ing atmosphere. The remembrance of home is apt to give a 
traveller the mal de patrie, and distemper his vision. Another 
thing — we know that time alters the focus of the eye ; what is 
not so clearly perceived is, that space does the same. I do not 
now allude to the existence of a bias on the mind : because a 
person, warped by prejudice or interest, cannot possibly see 
things as they are, nor report them truly, if he could. A third 
matter to be mentioned, — though deemed quite superfluous by 
many — j Sj that the masculine property of common sense is useful 
to anv observer. One may be versed in logic, a master of science, 
and of many tongues ; but if easily deceived and cajoled, cheated 
in every article he buys, even at his own door at home ; run 
away with by every pegasus, that some scheming adventurer and 
admirable rider causes to caracole before him, whether it be 
homoeopathy, animal magnetism, or any other nag, he is not a 
man of common sense. It it is this Ithuriel attribute, that identi- 
fies the gross credulity of the Catholic with the like facility of 
implicit faith in other denominations ; and which is not surprised 
to detect, beneath the coat and surplice, some of the same impu- 
rities, that stain the scapulary. A man who lacks the intuitions of 
common sense, cannot properly answer the question, What do you 
think of Paris ? All have heard of the tourist in America, to 
whom a young farmer remarked in conversation, "my poor 
father is dead, and I am going to pull up stakes, and be off to 
the West." The traveler whipped out his memorandum, and 
noted for the information of his countrymen at home, that " when 
a father dies in the United States, they do not put down a grave 
stone as in England, but — they pull up stakes !" To regard a 
country as it deserves, all the senses of the best endowed have 
enouo-h to do. When a blind person therefore talks of what he 



SAPEURS POMPIERS. 283 



sees ; a deaf one, like Miss Martineau, of what she hears, " risum 
teneatis amid?" 

Let me begin an answer, then, to this Monsieur Tonson of a 
question — and it will very likely be deemed an apt illustration 
of the incompetency described. The city of Paris, properly 
speaking, referring by this to the buildings, is not adapted to 
strike an American visitor with pleasure. The gray stone, of 
which they are almost universally composed, has a sad air, even 
when new, that calls up two very disagreeable images, old age 
and decay. A few edifices are constructed of brick, as is part of 
the palace of Versailles. This is wanting, however, in that bright 
red color, which gives a look of cheerfulness to an American city. 
The prevailing hue is brown and sombre, with scarce a tinge of 
red. This circumstance may be owing to imperfect burning, but 
more probably to the character of its constituent clay. The 
Place Royale, where Henry II. was wounded in the eye by the 
Count de Montgommeri, is surrounded by structures of red brick, 
faced with stone copings, which is the only instance of the style in . 
Paris, that I remember to have seen. Wooden buildings are so 
very rare, that I do not recollect a single specimen. The number 
of houses in the city is estimated at forty-five thousand. 

Constructed of such materials, with walls and floors of some 
earthy substance, and roofs of tile or slate, fires kindle with great 
difficulty, and spread with much greater. Notwithstanding the 
close proximity of the buildings, one rarely or never communicates 
fire to another. The best proof of their rarity is the state of the 
fire-department. A distinct set of men, called sapeurs pompiers are 
devoted to the sole business of extinguishing fires ; and no one else 
lends a hand, for he says, " it is none of my business." They are 
an extremely fine corps, and are educated in gymastics to prepare 
them for duty. Subjected to military discipline, and having a 
uniform, they are in truth but an order of soldiers, who, under 
this guise, are a formidable body, always prepared for an emer- 
gency. When a fire occurs, they hasten to the spot with pails, 
occasionally with an engine. They form a line 'and pass water 
from the nearest fountain, and throw it on the flames, or into the 
engine, which is unprovided with hose for suction. This is not 



284 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

its only deficiency ; its power enables it to project water to a very 
inconsiderable height only. This feeble and inefficient machine 
resembles those used in America twenty or thirty years ago. 
The laws relating to fires are very good. If a man accidentally 
and carelessly sets his room on fire — for scarcely any body has an 
entire house to himself, if so, the law is the same — he not only 
suffers by losing his own property, but must pay all the damage 
it may do his neighbors, to whatever extent it may spread ; rarely 
or never very far, indeed, as I have said, but sometimes a room 
or two. There is no accounting for tastes ; for in America they 
burn over their prairies and cities, once every few years, in order 
to give them a fresh and lively growth. Thus they preserve 
their title to the name of the New World. Of this attribute of 
newness, they are so very fond, as to maintain it with proud ten- 
acity in the names of some of their oldest States ; and propagate 
the darling syllable, wherever a squatter has effected a lodgment, 
or a hunter spread his blanket for a night. But they cannot 
have antiquities in such a country, and the spires of their churches 
will never have time to grow so high, nor their houses so large, 
as in the Old World. This novelty is an expensive luxury. 

I have observed, that I do not like Paris very well for its 
buildings of snuff color, so closely compacted, and its generally 
narrow and dirty streets. There are splendid exceptions ; some 
buildings and some streets are as magnificent as can be. I am 
not speaking, however, of the aristocratic portion of the city, but 
of the tout ensemble. 

Moreover, I do not love the water. When I set my foot upon 
the shore of Havre for the first time, after drinking the stale, 
stagnant water of the ship for thirty-six days, I longed for a 
draught of the sparkling element, the literal mountain dew. My 
first demand of the servant at the hotel was for this delicious 
beverage, which had played before my fancy for many a long 
day and night. I tasted it with eagerness, but so unsatisfactory 
was the result, that, concluding there was a mistake, I ordered 
him to get some more, and to be sure that it was fresh. The 
glass was brought again, but the fate of Tantalus was mine, with 
variations ; I could not drink it. I did not know, till afterwards, 



SUPPLY OF WATER. 285 



that it had come from an aqueduct, and been strained and fil- 
tered, till the charcoal had deprived it of every particle of taste. 
Paris water is the same. The nature of the soil, consisting of 
rocky strata of great depth, has few springs, so that the inhab- 
itants are driven to the Seine, or distant sources, made available 
by aqueducts. At the beginning of the fifteenth century there 
were but twelve public fountains, and a century later, in the 
reign of Francis I., only sixteen, supplying but one inch of water 
to a population of one hundred thousand. Allowing a quart a 
day to each inhabitant, an inch will supply about one thousand 
persons. What must have been the distress, when this quantity 
was distributed among three hundred times that number ! Un- 
der Louis XIV. and XV., the city was principally supplied by a 
pump on the Pont Neuf, denominated the Samaritan, which 
yielded from thirty to eighty inches, according to the height of 
the river. The population was then, (1775,) six hundred thou- 
sand. 

Government has, of late years, taken the matter in hand ; and 
the city now enjoys an abundant supply of this inestimable ele- 
ment from the Artesian Well at Grenelle, and numerous aque- 
ducts, and from reservoirs filled with water, pumped up by steam 
engines from the Seine. This serves not only for drink and other 
necessary purposes, but supplies the numerous ornamental foun- 
tains, which are scattered over Paris, and feeds the fontaines homes, 
or short fountains, at the corners of most of the streets, to the 
number of sixteen hundred, whose beneficent office it is to 
cleanse the gutters, and purify the city. Men appointed for the 
purpose daily turn the cocks attached to them. All the fountain 
water is purified by a large filter at the reservoirs ; but, as it is 
not after all perfectly free from sediment, every house is com- 
monly provided with another to complete the process. A few 
houses have water conducted to them by small pipes connected 
with the larger ones, but generally they depend on the water- 
carriers, of whom I have before spoken. It is stated, that five 
millions of francs are paid to these carriers annually. 

The spare water flows off by the Common Sewers. These are 
now substantial and capacious. In former times, the city suf- 



OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



fered very much for want of them ; and, in 1370, the first was 
built. This was, from time to time, stopped up, and thus en- 
gendered many formidable diseases, from the odors and vapors 
which it emitted. Since 1829, they have attracted extraordinary 
attention, and are now about sixty miles in length, constructed 
in vaulted masonry, at a cost of eighteen millions of francs. 
Thus the purity of the city is accomplished, as far as possible ; 
for the contents of the sewers are emptied into the Seine, and 
soon borne away by the rapid waves. 

It will take another letter, I perceive, to finish a reply to the 
interrogatory, " How do you like Paris ?" 



XLII. 

Answer to " How do you Like Paris ?" concluded — Religion — Cook- 
ery — Utility of a Temporary Residence in Paris. 

A child can invent a question or objection in a few seconds, 
that will take a philosopher as many days to solve, and it is likely 
not complete it then. The embarrassment springs often from the 
magnitude, more than the intricacy of the subject. A ship of 
the line will answer the helm with the same certainty, as a Balti- 
more clipper, but demands more time and space to do it in. A 
replication to the interrogatory, " How do you like Paris," is the 
easiest thing in the world ; but requires a little world of space 
and patience too. And so the danger is, that amid the rattle of 
words the answer may be lost, like conversation in a cotton mill. 
Many a speech has been spoilt, like the old continental money, 
because there was too much of it ; and a sermon, that, in the 
first half hour, wound up the audience to the highest pitch, al- 
most always in the last half one snaps the spring of patience, 
when they all run down again. But the failings of others will 
never teach us caution, though their success is pretty sure to 
tempt indiscretion. 

When I say, as in my last letter, that I do not like the streets, 
houses and water of Paris, I have said all I am disposed to do 
in its disfavor. The condition of the edifices and streets is owing 
to their antiquity, and the habits of the country. Many of the 
latter are so very narrow, that a carriage can scarcely pass, and 
then there is great danger to the pedestrian, who is obliged to 
save himself by entering under the large portes cocker es, which 
are on the side. The trouble and rush are greatly aggravated, 
when country vehicles attempt a passage. These are extremely 

287 



288 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

large and cumbersome machines with wheels so immense, that 
one is ready to imagine them relics of a former age, when they 
were drawn by oxen, now called mastodons, and driven by giants. 

Trivial matters there are, no doubt, to disturb the habits form- 
ed by early nurture in another world, which sometimes vex us. 
These must, of necessity, occur whithersoever we may go, even 
to a country much superior to our own. I have already in va- 
rious letters described the streets and amusements of this city, 
and need not therefore say, that I have found the one very grati- 
fying and diverting, and the other exceedingly beneficial and in- 
structive. No one, who knows anything of the matter, questions 
the advantages of Paris to the student ; and by common accord, 
the world proclaims her the Cyprus of the moderns. 

The religion of the Parisians has been variously spoken of. 
Some indeed have even denied them any at all. But this is the 
disingenuous view of a bigot or enthusiast. To be rational we 
must discriminate. I should be sorry to believe, that the amia- 
bleness, civilization, refinement, beneficence and good nature, that 
are conspicuous in this vast population, were not to be put down 
to the credit of religion. Because such a supposition would 
deprive Christianity of its distinguishing criterion — "by its fruits 
ye shall know it ;" — and rob it of the pre-eminent glory of being 
the parent of celestial charity with all its clustering virtues. The 
manner in which religion here may strike an inquirer, depends — - 
and what does not? — on his point de vue. After being disgusted 
by the harsh dissensions, and useless, and often hurtful, discus- 
sions or rather wrangling, of which the fountain of truth in my 
own country is unhappily the subject, I will not say, the cause ; 
after witnessing the minister-making and unmaking, church-mem- 
ber making and proselyting, that have been systematized into a 
branch of business there, the general tranquility, which pervades 
society in matters of this nature in Paris, is soothing to the feel- 
ings. I know the purity of the clergy has been called in ques- 
tion — yes, flippantly denied — but who shall place the foibles and 
transgressions of the various orders of the priesthood in Christen- 
dom in the scales, and nicely trim the balance ? Those who ad- 
minister at the holy altar are immaculate nowhere. The highest 



THE CHURCH'S LUST OF DOMINATION. 289 

«! ■ I '• - i ■ 1 — ■ 

of them have fallen sadly, by means too of the old temptations, 
which assail our common nature, " the world, the flesh, and the 
devil." Is there any principle in the religious institution in 
France, which strengthens the power of the tempter, or weakens 
the motives to resistance ? Perhaps there is, but it is difficult to 
decide. Indiscriminate surmise is easy ; but the real truth is not 
obvious to a sojourner for a year ; nor, I apprehend, even to a 
" native to the manner born," without a particular and thorough 
investigation. One thing is to be expected, that the branches of 
the mighty tree of religious organization, which overshadows 
Christendom, should bear the fruits of the original stock ; de- 
generating, as it grows older, till a new one shall spring up from 
the true seed of the divine and blessed Sower. 

Errors there doubtless are in the Roman Catholic code of 
morals and religion. Upon these it is not my present design — 
though it is my privilege as well as that of every freeman, — to 
touch. It will be time however to exert this unquestionable 
right, when we Protestants can better agree among ourselves, 
what those errors are. Yet I will venture to select one or two 
of so odious a character and dangerous a tendency, as to call for 
rebuke and opposition, wherever they appear. They are exclu- 
siveness, and intolerance, or religious despotism ; twins in their 
birth, and the inseparable Castor and Pollux of every hierarchy. 
Commencing by making men slaves to the church, they prepare 
them well for servitude to the civil power. Such a development 
of religion has been in different ages, now a tool, and now a 
master of the state ; and will play the same parts again, when- 
ever the tragedies, that have in times past dissolved whole coun- 
tries in tears, shall be acted anew. A discouraging feature in 
the future prospect is, that, should this malignant power decline, 
or be extinguished, of which there is no symptom as I can see, it 
has provided for the preservation of its exclusiveness and infalli- 
bility by grafting those usurped prerogatives on offsets from itself, 
transplanted in all portions of the Christian soil. 

Far be it from me to assert, that the people of Paris are less 
religious than those of America ; but I can safely affirm, I believe, 
that they have vastly less hypocrisy. This base vice has been 
17 



$90 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

often said to pay an involuntary homage to the value of religion. 
Such precisely is my own opinion ; and it is a tribute paid too by 
those, who are eminently competent to calculate its advantage to 
them exactly to a dollar. The devote in France, on the other 
hand, is sincere, and unremitted in the performance of the duties 
prescribed by her faith, not from popularity or fashion, but a 
feeling of its solemn obligation. There is certainly more freedom 
of opinion here ; and the Christian can repose his confidence in 
any creed or dogma, without encountering the frown or stigma 
of his fellow-mortal. Uncharitable judgment and vehement de- 
nunciation are nevertheless a considerable mitigation of the inqui- 
sition and auto da/S; and matters, it is hoped, will grow better 
instead of worse. But all these favorable omens may possibly 
prove fallacious. The Church may be temporizing now, but only 
because it is weak. The time may come, when this still formi- 
dable power, confessedly militant, though often military, may 
claim its original temper with its strength. Then, becoming 
Weary with her long dalliance with the infirmities of men, it is 
feared she will arise, like Achilles from the distaff, and put on 
her terrible armor again to conquer and avenge. There are no 
present indications of the advent of such an epoch, which can 
never come, till the sects and governments, which chequer and 
beautify the Christian world, and secure the independence of each 
other, shall succumb to the famous principle of unity, so dear to 
despotic power, civil and ecclesiastic. 

The transition is natural and easy from the clergy to good liv- 
ings, and so to cookery, the most agreeable of all the sciences, 
whose pleasant province it is to provide for a table, round which 
all communions and denominations agree to sit in peace, with lib- 
erty for each to indulge in whatever suits its respective taste. Its 
articles are swallowed with wonderfully less reserve than those of 
the Council of Trent, or even the far-famed Thirty-Nine themselves. 
And what shall I say of the cuisine of this nation, renowned as 
a frog-eating, ragout-making, wine-drinking race ? Why, I must 
even re-echo the universal acclamation, and acknowledge for once, 
that the vox populi is also mine. One cannot always expect to 
masticate with a different taste, though he may see things in a 



MAGISTER ARTIS. 291 



different light from everybody else. I therefore cheerfully con- 
sent to the elevation of French cookery among the fine arts, and 
of French cooks to the dignity of professors. We pronounce the 
imitation in paste, which rivals the brilliancy of the diamond of 
Golconda, a splendid invention ; but what honors are due to him, 
who extracts turtle soup from a calf's head, and converts, by his 
curious alchemy, a tough old ram, the pater -familias of many gen- 
erations, into a delicate, plump saddle of venison ! 

" Magister artis, ingeniique largitor 
Venter," 

0, worthy disciple of the matchless Careme ! receive the thanks 
of the innumerable admirers of thy gastronomic skill, now living, 
and of multitudes yet unborn ! And, thou long-necked, broad-* 
backed, fin-flapping, amphibious cosmopolite ! tumble about at 
thy ease in the briny floods, and sleep without anxiety on the 
sandy beaches. No Robinson Crusoes — at least from France — 
shall trip thy heels up, while perambulating the sea-shore, nor 
rob thee of thy precious body to pamper their own. The unsus- 
pecting calf has usurped thy place of dignity at the head of the 
table ; and thou livest but in name at the head of the restau- 
rant bills of fare. But is not that, seriously, a valuable art, 
which is able to transmute a very indifferent thing — as Lord Pe- 
te* could a brown loaf into a leg of mutton — into an article of 
pleasure to the palate ? There are those who affect to say, they 
feel not the slightest preference of one thing over another, provi- 
ded only, the taste is the same — By stopping the nose, this iden- 
tity of taste will be accomplished ; for then all meats will have 
the same flavor, all oils the same delicacy, all wines the same 
gout. Even in such a case, the cook will not be useless ; for his 
miraculous skill in overcoming difficulties will enable us to dis- 
pense with the fatiguing process of holding on to one's nasal ex- 
tremity during a dinner of spoiled meat, and a withered salad 
dressed with whale oil. Glory, then, to the noble cook, the only 
true agrarian ! He repudiates the maxim Ex nihilo nihil fit. The 
grand distinctive among men has ever been the difficulty or ease 
of obtaining a dinner. He has abolished this odious distinction, 
and proclaimed to our hunger-tormented race, that all mankind 



292 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

have leave to dine. The chiffonier may henceforth come to the 
table, and when that is the case, we know for a certaintv that all 
men must really be free and equal. 

Think of the immense productions of the earth, its millions of 
bushels, its millions of pounds ; and the incredible magnitude 
and worth of the large portion of the whole, that must pass 
through the hands of the cook on their way to the millions of 
mouths, that stand perpetually open, like those of young birds, 
in expectation of receiving the customary dole. Two mighty pro- 
cesses are thus going on in the world without ceasing. Nature 
is exhausting her energies in producing ; man his life in consu- 
ming ; while the cook stands between them, the great organ of 
communication from one to the other. 

What an important officer is he in the general dissemination of 
pleasure, and the protection of so much wealth from waste! 
Surely such an artiste must be welcomed with eagerness among 
my countrymen in the New World, where his drastic agency is 
so much needed. There — in the country, I mean, — at one season 
of the year, nothing appears upon the table from day to day but 
veal ; at another, pork, honest and unaffected pork ; while a 
third larger fraction of the twelvemonth is regaled with sheep 
and lamb, and lamb and sheep, till a considerable fleece is said to 
shoot out on the surface of the consumer's skin. What a meta- 
morphosis would follow the advent of a Parisian artiste among 
these grand realities ; one, who can erect a superstructure where 
there is no foundation, and of whose works the remark is as true, 
as it is of matter, that no particle of them is ever lost ! The wa- 
ter, that boils his meats or vegetables, with the addition of a little 
maccaroni or vermicelli and proper spices, becomes good soup, 
such as — I shall be very happy to eat, when once more in New 
York. Health, too, is commonly the result of such cookery as 
this ; for during my residence in this city, all the time in constant 
attendance on the sick, I have noticed extremely few cases of 
trouble arising from the food. The various dishes are so well 
prepared and cooked, that the digestive organs have not been 
overtaxed in their duty of assimilating them to the body. I have 
a strong inclination to say more on this subject, thus but slightly 



UTILITY OF FOREIGN TRAVEL. 293 



touched, and shall do so perhaps hereafter, in comparison with 
the modes of life in England. 

"I hope your brother has not brought home any French 
puppyisms," wrote one lady to another. A thousand similar 
remarks are heard, insinuating the kind of importation, which is 
thought to he usually made by travelers from foreign parts. 
Are they true ? I answer, they are true ; and they are false. 

They are true of those who, at home, are coxcombs, and only 
go abroad to gad, and gape, and gossip. When one of these is 
asked, " Have you visited the Coliseum ?" he replies, " Don't 
remember, my good fellow ; Frank pays the bills — is it a hotel 
in Paris ?" The Forty Bale theory of South Carolina is quite as 
applicable to this case as to the tariff; for what a man brings home 
bears an exact proportion to the outfit. Thus, if the export is 
an American dandy, depend upon it the import will be a Euro- 
pean fop. 

" Coelum non animum mutant, qui trans mare currunt." 

These absurdities, more or less, apply to all who roam over 
Europe, without any earthly purpose whatever. Their clothes, 
their manners, their principles, their loyalty to their country 
even, hang very loosely on them, and they are ever ready to 
exchange them all at any time for those they become acquainted 
with on other soils. Persons of weak minds, or in the gristle of 
youth, are particularly liable to the novel influences that sur- 
round, and will be apt to overpower them, in strange but refined 
communities. A famous country, for the first time seen, is ever 
invested with the halo of romance ; every object seems enlarged 
by the mist of ages, with which it is enveloped. The outside of 
old polished nations, which is sure to be the best, maintains, in 
the immature and inexperienced judgment of such people, an 
unequal comparison with the plainness, sometimes even coarse- 
ness of their birth-place. Beside, the mind is first drawn, like a 
child's eye, to the bright points, overlooking the imperfections, of 
all the rest of th# prospect. 

It is painful to observe how many good Americans have been 
converted into Europeans by being placed, when children, in a 
11* 



294 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

French or German school, for education. At maturity, on 
returning to their natal soil, they feel themselves to be foreigners 
in every thing but the name, amid a population to which they 
are unable to assimilate themselves ; and, till death, continue to 
be attached to ideas which first occupied their youthful minds. 
Their usefulness and honor have, in this way, been impaired by 
the mistaken means employed by their parents to increase them. 
The young American should be educated, and grow up in the 
midst of his countrymen, on whose generous fellow-feeling he is 
to repose for his happiness and future fame. Will parents weigh 
the acquisition of two or three modern tongues, and a few lite- 
rary and scientific advantages, perhaps, of foreign institutions, 
against the morals, principles, felicity, and reputation of then- 
offspring ? Instead of this, all classes should receive their nur- 
ture, as much as possible, in the company of each other ; and 
the glory of the New-England Common School arises from its 
tendency to prolong the literary and cordial fellowship of youth 
among all ranks in life. The farther this idea is carried, the 
better for the country. 

But there are travelers, against whom the charge of coming 
back from a temporary residence in foreign society worse than 
they went, is false. These are such as have high and useful aims 
in visiting the old world ; and go thither with some acquaintance 
with their own, and an understanding not so vacant as to admit 
the entrance of every novel notion. These will be likely to re- 
turn laden with new acquisitions from the European market, and 
an intellectual capital augmented by foreign traffic. The utility 
of travel depends upon the traveler — 

"Some minds improve by travel; others, rather 
Resemble copper wire or brass, 
Which gets the narrower by going farther." 



XLIII. 

Flower Markets — The Pantheon — Painting by Gros — Tombs of 
Voltaire, Rousseau, Lagrange, and others. 

My malady proceeded from a wisdom tooth, which was filled 
in Boston, but still the work of decay went on. " You did not 
know I had been sick ?" I suppose, it is because I did not tell 
you, then. How shockingly one bears sickness, whom Heaven 
has always blest with health ! Compare him with the hopeless- 
invalid. Uneasy, impatient, fretful, he fills the house with up- 
roar, like a spoiled child, who bellows, if a handsome blue bottle 
does but just buzz near his thin ear. I have an excellent relative, 
who, good soul, is a little plethoric. Occasionally after trifling 
exercise in the sun of a New England summer, a slight nose bleed 
ensues. The entire household is up in arms. On the instant,, 
men are mounted and on the road to the physician's dwelling. 
The horses need no guiding, for they know the way, and the 
doctor needs no message, when he sees the foaming steeds. The 
female portion of the household have a trying time. One seeks 
cold water ; another a rusty hey to thrust along his back, as if it 
was a case of lock-jaw. Red yarn is tied around his neck and 
wrists, and an amulet of blood stones sheds its selectest influence 
— and all this — because a man once died of epistaxis. The poor 
invalid, on the other hand, accustomed to lie upon a bed of suf- 
fering, for days, and months, and years, utters no complaint, 
though racked by pain. No ripple agitates the tranquillity of his 
home. A smile, though faint, must sometimes try to animate that 
pale face, like moonlight on sepulchral marble, so that cheerful- 
ness shall not be entirely banished from the household. 

But the sickest of all men, that have but a slight derangement, 

295 



296 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

is the physician himself. His complaints always augur badly; he 
he is quick to perceive symptoms of organic disease. His accel- 
erated pulse indicates a fever ; a slight cold is sure to be an em- 
bryo consumption. He treats himself with trepidation. His 
constitution is peculiar ; half the doses for other persons he deems 
sufficient for himself. He is then greatly alarmed, because the 
medicine is inert ; for, when medicine refuses to act, danger must 
be imminent. He does not remember the adage, equally applic- 
able to his own profession as the legal, The man who pleads his 
own cause, has a fool for a client. If a physician is thus imbecile 
when at home, he is, in a foreign land, entitled to sincere compas- 
sion. Images of death hover round him — no friends to soothe 
his pains, or smooth his pillow. His little headache is an incipi- 
ent brain fever ; he shudders at the thought of dying in a strange 
country, away from all his beloved friends. He writes his last 
letters, makes his will, and — f — iddle-de-dee. I am not sick to- 
day. The horrible symptoms are all gone ; visions of future 
happiness and joyous union with all that is dear come to occupy 
their places. 

The flower markets are pretty and quite numerous. But a 
market here must not be thought to resemble the Quincy market 
in Boston— a large substantial structure of stone ; nor one of 
wood even. No — many of them cannot even boast of such sheds 
as those of New York. Some indeed are built of stone, but 
without the smallest pretensions to elegance. Others are merely 
places, which may or may not have trees around them, and a 
small fountain in the middle, like the flower market in the CitL 
Some of the marketmen, especially in the markets, which are 
held every day, as those for vegetables and others, protect them- 
selves and their merchandise from the weathers' inclemencies by 
huge umbrellas of canvas, which screen them from sun and rain. 
The flowers themselves have no other shelter than the puny trees 
around the square. The air is loaded with odors from these 
charming productions of nature, offered in great profusion, variety 
and beauty ; at least they are beautiful' to me, pent up within 
gray old walls, encrusted with the smoke of centuries. With the 
same tact, which the French possess in such an eminent degree, 



THE GRISETTE AND HER FLOWERS. 297 

so evident in the merest trifle, these flowers are disposed in cap- 
tivating arrangements. The pots, which contain them, are un- 
washed ; but a sheet of white paper envelops them and the 
plants also, except the foliage. The earth is hidden too, and so 
the bright blows and verdant leaves are strikingly displayed in 
contrast with the white ground relieving them. 

It is astonishing what a quantity of them, such as the pansy, 
daisy, and little rose-bushes, are sold to the poor grisettes. Their 
prices, from the knowledge we have of the depth of the purses 
of these simple girls, must be very small. From her day's 
wages of twenty cents, she cannot possibly resist the desire to 
spend two of them for a pot of those sweet violets. She stands 
on one side looking at it from a distance. Presently she goes 
nearer ; then takes the pot in her hand. Three beautiful violets 
fully blown ; another just begins to show its purple colors ; and 
see, under the green leaf at the side, there is another still. Two 
sous are not much ; their absence will make a scanty dinner still 
more meagre, it is true, but when the meal is eaten, it is gone ; 
but the delightful flowers will solace many a lonely hour. Such 
is her mental soliloquy, as her countenance plainly enough be- 
trays : " Voila jardinier ! here are your sous — and the flowers, 
yes — they are mine." And they go home with her, pressed to 
her heart, and tasting her rosy lips. Who would not be a violet ? 
though to mount — mount — five flights of stairs are not enough ? 
No, still a sixth. Ah ! the lot of a violet may be pleasant, but 
that of the poor girl, its mistress, is not so enviable ; her path is 
not always flowery. 

I begin to flatter myself on having at last seen Paris. With 
my numberless visits to most of the principal places, and my 
views of it from the environs, I had considered, that the city had 
been pretty thoroughly explored ; but it was necessary to make 
another trial yet. One of the most magnificent edifices had been 
from day to day postponed, merely because it could be viewed 
at any time. Now, however, the great Pantheon has been seen. 
In one respect it is much like the State House in Boston, for its 
beautiful dome is conspicuous from all portions of the city, and 
serves as a beacon for a wide circumference. The reason that 



298 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

the little dome of freedom's temple in Boston is so prominent to 
the citizen and sailor, consists in its situation. Placed on the sum- 
mit of an eminence, and isolated by the smallness of the sur- 
rounding buildings, it possesses unusual elements for the fine 
display, which it really makes. It covers one of the lofty head- 
lands of the bay with its crown, which however would long since 
have been broken, like that of Jack, (of the firm of Jack and 
Gill), had it adorned a human brow, instead of that of Beacon 
Hill. 

But the Pantheon owes nothing to its situation. The whole 
city is built on nearly level ground. Real greatness is the only 
thing, that can cause one constituent part of it to rise above its 
neighbors. Two hundred and eighty two feet are the measure of 
the distance from the pavement to the top of the dome ; and to 
this height an easy access is provided, if the visitor has the strength 
to ascend it, by four hundred and seventy five steps — a march 
which will give him a feeble notion of the punishment of the tread- 
mill ; on that account I entreat those legislators to try it, who 
are in favor of that description of exercise. When once this eleva- 
tion is surmounted, an extensive prospect opens on the eye. — 
Every other building is below, though, with the cathedrals of St. 
Sulpice and St. Eustache, many still tower around. From no 
other place can a better idea be obtained of the actual magnitude 
of the city. In whatever direction one in the streets may turn, 
the same mass of hoary walls stops the view, save when here and 
there it is diversified by some conspicuous structure, for the num- 
ber of which the city is remarkable ; or by the gardens of the 
Tuilleries, or the Luxembourg. It is from this uniformhy of 
structure and material, that Paris seems so much smaller than it 
really is. A single color paints it all. In our cities the red brick, 
white spires, and wooden buildings variously painted, not only 
render the coup (Pceil bright and lively, but by their diversity 
communicate an impression of extent, which does not belong to 
them. This metropolis, viewed through a foggy atmosphere, 
might be taken by one not conversant with what he was observ- 
ing, to be a heap of rocks ; for it presents no object to correct the 
natural illusion ; the steeples, chimneys, roofs, being all of stone. 



THE PANTHEON. 299 



He might indeed be puzzled, by numberless smoke jacks and 
funnels, two or three of which on an average spring from every 
chimney in the city, for I question whether one exists that does 
not smoke. 

But to return to the pinnacle of the Pantheon, which we were 
not wise to leave perhaps after the labor of climbing to it — let us 
examine the interior ; for, strange to say, we have got upon the 
top without entering the structure. The world looks gloriously 
from the temple, and the temple looks finely from the world. 
The approach is from dirty, narrow streets, whence we step into 
a spacious, well paved square around it. The buildings, that 
stood there, have been torn away to make it ; and those, which 
are to be erected in their stead, must be formed with hollow 
fronts, that the square, agreeably to the laws of Irish perspective, 
may lie in the form of a ring. One only has yet been erected, 
the Ecole de Droit. From this, an excellent view may be had of 
the principal front. This is a magnificent portico, composed of 
twenty-two fluted columns, sixty-feet high and six in diameter, 
supporting a triangular pediment, one hundred and twelve feet 
broad, and twenty-two feet high, which is embellished with a large 
composition in relief by David; — France — a figure sixteen feet 
high — bestowing honors on her distinguished sons. Among 
them are Fenelon, Mirabeau, Voltaire, Rousseau, Lafayette and 
David the painter, on one side ; on the other are soldiers of the 
republican and imperial armies, with Napoleon conspicuous at 
their head. At the feet of France, Liberty and History, seated, 
are weaving crowns .to reward the great, and illustrate their 
names. In the corners, children are endeavoring to imitate the 
example, thus set them, and below is the inscription : 

AUX GRANDS HOMMES LA PATRIE RECONNAISSANTE. 

From the centre of the edifice rises the great dome, springing 
from a circular gallery, surrounded by thirty-two Corinthian pil- 
lars. Above this is a lantern, formerly surmounted by a ball and 
cross, which are to be replaced by a bronze statue of Immortality 
seventeen feet in height, a model of which is now in the temple. 
She stands with one hand open to record, and holding in the 
other a crown to reward, the deeds of the worthy. The whole 



300 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

elevation to the apex of the monument, will be more than three 
hundred and twenty feet. The dome, pillars and all, are of stone. 

On entering the Pantheon we find within but a single room, 
which is in the form of a Greek cross, two hundred and eighty 
feet by two hundred and fifty-eight. Its superbly sculptured 
walls and ceiling, eighty feet in height, are supported by one 
hundred and thirty pillars with rich pedestals and cornices. All 
is white and pure within. From the shape of the structure the 
effect of the dome is greatly diminished. It cannot be seen, til 
one arrives at the centre, and almost breaks his neck in straining 
to get a sight of the magnificent painting by Gros, who received 
for it not only twenty thousand dollars, but the title of Baron 
from Charles X. It extends over three thousand two hundred 
and fifty- six square feet. 

This edifice, when erected in 1764 by Louis XV, was intended 
for a church, and has been vacillating a long time between that 
and a hall of philosophy, till it has finally become a temple de- 
voted to the reliques and glory of the illustrious dead. This pic- 
ture therefore has a mingled design. The dome represents four 
groups, rendering homage to St. Genevieve, to whom the temple 
is dedicated. These groups are encircled by angels, each of 
whom is a king of France, who by the lustre of his reign, or the 
influence of his age, has created an epoch in the history of his 
country. There is a circle, in which are seen Louis XVI, Marie 
Antoinette, Louis XVII, and Madame Elizabeth, and in the cen- 
tre the glory of Deity. The pendentives are allegorical pictures of 
France, Justice, Death and Glory embracing Napoleon. The 
picture in the dome can scarcely be seen distinctly from below, 
on account of the inconvenient but necessary position of the be- 
holder ; but one can mount to it almost, and then he may not 
only examine the painting well, but from an inner dome look 
down upon the people, who appear below like pigmies. People, 
who are seen from above or from beneath, always appear much 
smaller, than when they are at the same distance on a level, as 
the moon in the zenith shows scarce half as large, as the same 
satellite in the horizon, though not for the same reason. To give 




THE PANTHEON 



PENALTIES OF GREATNESS. 301 

one an idea of the magnitude of this noble picture, a mosaic cir- 
cle is placed immediately beneath, and of exactly the same span 
— thirty-three feet. 

Under the temple are the tombs of those, whom France has 
pronounced worthy of a place of such distinction. The guide 
proceeds with a lantern through its chilly passages, and, as he 
comes to each monument, arranges his company, so that they 
can have an advantageous view, taps it with his cane, and after 
a suitable preparatory hawking and hemming, commences his his- 
tory. But his recital is almost as unintelligible, as the reading 
of a well-fed priest. Voltaire and Rousseau have suffered the 
penalty of greatness in being torn from a quiet country Abbey, 
and the beautiful pleasure grounds of the Marquis de Girardin in 
the isle of Poplars. And now with others, who have the mis- 
fortune to be famous, their memories, like wild beasts in a me- 
nagerie, are " stirred up" by a chattering guide, and their merits 
canvassed by the stupid Englishman, who says " well that's did," 
— and the curious Yankee, who asks "have you ever saw?" — ■ 
neither of whom have ever read a syllable of their writings, and 
know them only by the anathemas, which have been showered 
upon them. 

Voltaire is also brought to more vivid recollection by a fine 
statue of Houdon's, which is placed on a niche near the mausole- 
um. Lagrange, the distinguished mathematician, reposes here. 
With all his mathematical powers he could not calculate the ab- 
surdities uttered over his tomb, multiplied, as they are, by the 
echo in a neighboring portion of these vaults. It seems to me 
that so fine an echo might be better employed, than in repeating 
the shouts and dialogues of the guides, and the blows inflicted by 
them with their canes upon a sounding board, which they have 
placed there for the purpose. The loud responses appeared to 
my imagination to issue from the bodies of the dead, complaining 
of the unseemly sacrilege. The ashes of about thirty eminent 
persons now find a resting place in these caverns, enclosed in 
marble cenotaphs or urns. The fickleness of the people is ex- 
hibited in their treatment of the remains of the illustrious Mira- 



302 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

beau, which in 1797 was buried with much pomp by the Nation- 
al Government, but were afterwards disinterred and banished 
from the precincts. Marat shared the same fate. 

Near this building is a reservoir for water obtained from the 
Artesian Well almost a mile distant. 

From the tone of several recent letters, I am afraid, you will 
think I am engaged in dead-letter writing. Whatever the fact 
may be, you may be assured that such is not my intention. 



XLTV. 

Mint— Repugnance to the Use of Steam Power by Government — 
Gregory XVI. — Cabinet of Coins — Medals — Jewelers — Academy 
of Industry. 

The Mint is a large building of three stories, situated on the 
bank of the Seine, and from its length makes a striking- fio-ure, 
when viewed from the opposite side of the river. Perhaps the 
arrangements of this institution are farther behind the age than 
any other similar one in Europe or America. Those who are 
acquainted with the workshops of the Mint in Philadelphia, pro- 
nounce them infinitely superior. Not only are these dark and 
dirty, but everything is inconvenient. It is almost impossible 
to believe, from the appearance of the utensils, that such fine 
coin, as is current in the kingdom, could be possibly produced ; 
though it must be admitted to be still inferior in beauty to that 
of England, the United States, and several other countries. All 
the machines are worked by hand. From the foundery, where 
the bars are cut, I passed to the room, where they are flattened 
and punched — all by hand labor. The punching requires a force, 
which an unaccustomed arm is unable to command. In a suc- 
cession of apartments the coin is baked, weighed, whitened, and 
struck. This concluding operation is executed now by means of 
a steam engine, placed here within six months. The various steps 
-are explained, in a satisfactory manner, by the workmen, who 
oddly enough complain, without a single exception, that it is very 
warm here — French way of asking money ! 

This government are extremely slow in introducing steam into 
their works. They contend, that every steam engine makes 
paupers of all workmen, whose places it supplies ; and, acting on 
303 



304 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

this opinion, their work is consequently inferior to that of other 
nations. The Pope of Rome (Gregory XYI.) taking a similar 
view, has recently announced, that no railways shall be con- 
structed in his dominions, as long as he shall live. The whole 
nation living on the money which drops from the pockets of 
strangers, his Holiness may be right ; since few more perhaps 
would visit it, if the facilities for traveling were greater, while 
those who went would obviously spend less. Churchmen in that 
country, as well as our own, have a kind of second sight, where 
money is concerned. Besides, the Vatican has never been fond 
of new discoveries at any period, as Galileo found ; and it ought 
not to be wondered at, if the courteous old gentleman of the 
keys and triple crown is a little nervous about the introduction of 
the exciting locomotive among his uneasy lieges. He knows it is 
a Protestant invention, as much as the terrible Alliance ; and, 
like another sensible and prudent Laocoon, may exclaim, Quic- 
quid id est, timeo Danaos et dona ferentes. And why should not 
the fiery horse, which has burnt the woods and barns along Long 
Island Sound, also scatter light, and perhaps flame, among the 
dwellers on the banks of the Tiber ? 

In another part of the building is the Cabinet of Coins — an 
immense collection. These are arranged in glass cases round the 
room, with statistics connected with them. The oldest is a 
French coin of Childebert I., of the date of 511. There are 
English and Spanish coins in great profusion. In a small case 
are shown the coins of America ; those of the United States are 
very poor. With these there are a great number of medals ; 
one of Charlemagne is a unique specimen of the time. Those of 
the Louises, Napoleon, and Louis Philippe, are almost innumera- 
ble. A case of some of the most common and recent ones is 
marked with the prices, at which they can be purchased. Many 
«ases contain specimens of the medals and tokens of various 
•societies and commercial companies. In an adjoining gallery 
are the dies, from which the coins and medals have been struck, 
since the reign of Charles VIII., and specimens of the various 
metals, used in coining, in their native states, as well as in their 
pure and refined form. The whole collection is richly worthy of 



EXHIBITION OF INDUSTRY. 305 

a visit, and to the antiquarian must be a delightful treat, for it 
contains many relics, extremely valuable and rare. 

Old coins are very easily obtained in France, abounding in the 
shops of the gatherers of old rubbish. Among them, a few 
days ago, was found a two sous piece, coined by Napoleon, but 
never circulated — a few only having been given to the ministers 
of the cabinet. It consists of a bit of silver, encircled by a ring 
of copper, raised above the interior, to save it from wearing 
away. Its price was fixed at five dollars. The admirable col- 
lection of Roman coins belonging to the government is deposited 
in the Bibliotheque Royale. 

To this edifice, the jewelers, silver and goldsmiths, bring all 
their manufactures to be stamped. This is not performed, 
unless they possess a certain fineness ; the gold must be of 
eighteen carets ; ten per cent, is charged on the value of the 
gold. This proceeding insures the purchaser against deception 
in the quality of the wares. Having very little money in my 
pocket, I gazed upon these rich and glittering commodities with 
the same pleasurable emotions, as one may be supposed to feel 
on looking into the kitchen of the Astor House just before the 
dinner hour. 

I will conclude this letter by telling you an anecdote of the 
great composer, Rossini, and the great cook, Careme. On 
second thought, I will omit this for the present, which, like 
Careme's own preserves, will not spoil by age, and give you a 
hasty sketch of an exhibition of works and industry made by the 
Academy of Industry of Paris, in the Orangerie of the Tuilleries. 
It was on a somewhat similar plan to those often seen in Ameri- 
ca, in Boston especially. The commodities however were entirely 
French in their character and uses. Our shows consist of instru- 
ments and works of utility with very often little pretension to 
beauty; such as labor-saving machines and substantial fabrics, 
designed for the use and consumption of working men. These, 
on the contrary, were all articles of luxury, fitted to the wants 
of the rich and voluptuous, and to a highly artificial condition of 
refinement. The cabinet work was of the most beautiful descrip- 
tion ; but such as would very far transcend the means of any 
18 



306 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 



person less than a peer at the least. Beside each different vari- 
ety of wares sat a young girl, who displayed their uses, beauties 
and advantages ; distributed cards to every one, who passed, of 
the makers' city address, and prospectuses of every novelty. I 
remarked to one who had the oversight of one of these pieces of 
furniture — a table of ebony, with a rich blue velvet top, inlaid 
with other woods, — " Ah !" said I, " that is for no one less than 
a little king." " Au contraire" was the answer, which, reinforced 
with a sweet smile, and bewitching words melted together — tout 
a fait Frangaise — left one in doubt, whether to believe or not. 
" On the contrary," said she, "it is for any one that will buy it. 
It is a mere cadeau, only eight hundred francs." I could scarce 
refrain from telling her, that my thrice great grandfather made 
his own table of pine boards with hemlock legs, and on that he 
ate his frugal meal one hundred and fifty years ago in the wilder- 
ness of unexplored America, with a keener relish, than I fear the 
buyer of this gew-gaw will know. Passing by suspender makers 
to the king, my eye was caught by a new method of roasting 
coffee, which has such an operation upon the grain, as to preserve 
all its aroma, good taste and fine qualities without producing the 
least effect upon the nerves ;" and the civil attendant took a quan- 
tity, and applied it to the noses of all that passed, giving each a 
card, and hoping he would come and try it. There was a musi- 
cal instrument, called Concertina Nouvel, which I had never seen 
before ; it was claimed by the seller as a new invention. But it 
is on the principle of the accordeon, in one respect at least, for 
like that it must swell and contract in order to be played. The 
tones are also not very unlike. This instrument is, however, 
much more extensive in its compass, comprehending five octaves. 
From a very hasty inspection I think it cannot be very different ; 
the extraordinary compass it possesses may be attained by the 
method of playing it, which is on both ends. Its form is octag- 
onal ; but the keys are not arranged precisely in the same man- 
ner, and this serves to lend it an air of novelty. The price is 
from a hundred and fifty to a hundred and ninety francs, accord- 
ing to the case. It is capable of application to piano fortes and 
organs. 



EXHIBITION OF INDUSTRY. 307 

Near this was a vender of hollow, flexible tubes. These were 
of any length ; their use was to call to one in another room. For 
example, in the night a sick person has this cord passed round 
the baluster to an apartment below, and placed near the bed of 
the attendant there. If any thing is wanted, the sick man fixes 
a small whistle to his end of the cord, the blowing of which arou- 
ses the watcher. This friend, or servant being thus awakened, 
one has only to substitute the mouth instead of the whistle, and 
his wishes are at once communicated to him, who has his ear at 
the other end of the tube. The price is sixty cents a metre, or a 
little more than a yard. 

Then we came to a little shaver, who showed off the beauties 
of a traveling trunk, which he had, with a volubility more amaz- 
ing than his merchandize, which, my friend observed, must infal- 
libly make his fortune. The glib-tongued youngster did not 
understand our language, but concluding with national politeness, 
that it was something fine, laughed heartily. The trunk was not 
an ill invention. It was provided with small slides, making the 
interior of any form desired ; allowing one to carry a bonnet, 
hat, or other dainty thing, without injury. Next was one, who 
had a box of paste, which, put upon a pair of white kid gloves, 
would instantaneously remove every particle of dirt without the 
least rubbing. Perhaps it might take gloves and all. Bonbons 
and chocolate of all varieties were there ; meats of every sort pre- 
served for a voyage ; turkeys and chickens, that will retain all 
their original flavor after a lapse of twenty years. 

The lockmakers to the king — there was a time, when a French 
king made his own locks — have, among other things a new in- 
vention, which has some utility. It is a small lock, which is put 
upon the outside, after the door of a room or house is locked, 
and completely closes the key hole, so that no one can enter by 
picking. There were lamps worse than ours at home, but highly 
praised ; umbrellas in canes, &c. in great numbers. Sick chairs 
of new invention are singular things to be shown by the prettiest 
girl in the room, who freely commented on all their advantages. 
Painted fans, of the most beautiful description, superior even to 
Dorr's, were exhibited ; and diamonds manufactured to order of 



308 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

such brilliancy, as to easily deceive, when not compared with the 
genuine monarch of the mine. This species of the gem is so 
much worn in France, even in a common company, that almost 
every body is connoisseur enough quickly to detect a counterfeit. 
Whoever wishes to cut a figure among Parisians with false stones 
will find it decidedly safest to do it with small ones ; as in their 
estimation, when an ornament is not real, the less there is of it 
the better ; a base coin of a low denomination only having any 
chance for currency. Some cameos, that I saw cut there, will 
not drop out of my memory for many a day. 

But what seemed most extraordinary was the specimens of 
hair work. One piece comprised a representation of Phre la 
Chaise, wonderfully true to nature, containing every monument, 
and all within a moderate compass. These were all standing in- 
dependently of each other, without any mutual support. The wil- 
low trees, the common grass, the clover and the bouquets placed 
there by affection, were entirely of hair, and all perfect. I could 
read the names of the deceased upon the monuments, which a 
single hair appeared to write. Behind, moved by machinery, 
advanced the funeral of a soldier, who was carried on the shoul- 
ders of his compatriots. The whole was charming. And these 
clever people work on chains and bracelets equally well. Shall 
I not do my friends a favor by directing them to the great es- 
tablishment Rue de la Coq, where all is done cheerfully and in a 
superior manner ? I think so. If they can make even a cemetery 
attractive, what must be the consequence, when they exert the 
full power of their exquisite art upon the already beautiful sex? 
It is the plainest problem in the Rule of Three. 



XLV. 

Chaumiere — Mons. Coste — Fourierites — La Democratie Pacifique 

Mons. Bureau and Family — Frederika Bremer — Prof. Longfel- 
low — Observatory — Mons. Arago. 

I have just sent you letters by Dr. G. B. S., of Philadel- 
phia. How I longed to be en route with them for New- York ! 
As I returned, it began to blow ; and in half a minute the rain 
descended in torrents, accompanied with thunder and lightning. 
I stepped under a grande porte cochere, to wait for the tempest 
to be over, and saw au fond du cours, a sign, on which was 
written Bains. I had no need of a bath, for the streets were 
immediately flooded, and neither pavement nor trottoir was to be 
seen. As, under existing circumstances, I did not wish to swim, 
there was absolutely no choice but to remain where I was, and 
act upon the statu quo, until the deluge should subside, and the 
street be fordable. In the evening, feeling intolerably ennuyeux, 
I set off for the Chaumiere, a ball-room, celebrated for its beauty 
and pleasures. Notwithstanding the glowing panegyrics I had 
heard on this popular resort, my raised anticipations were far 
surpassed. The place seemed, to my imagination, the fabled 
gardens of the genii. Nature and art conspired to captivate the 
senses. The air was redolent with sweet odors, stolen from lilacs, 
laburnums, acacias, and innumerable flowers ; music intoxicated ; 
lamps, brilliant with gas, reproduced, through elegantly cut 
shades, a softened day, and beauty, seen through the green 
leaves gracefully turning in fairy waltzes, colored the whole 
scene with the rose hues of sentiment and feeling. Even Juno, 
Venus, and other shining divinities, left their celestial abodes on 
this occasion, and from the numerous winding alleys, and build- 
ings around, appeared to enjoy their evening's visit very much, 

309 



310 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

if I could judge correctly by their radiant smiling faces. The 
dancers are grisettes and their cavaliers ; the spectators are 
delegations from every class of people in Paris ; and the English 
tongue is almost as common as the French. 

I was surprised to see at these balls the great men of the 
city, the most distinguished in the fields of letters and science. 
I have already mentioned, as you may remember, that I attended 
the celebrated lectures of Mons. Coste, Professor at the College 
of France, on Embryology. He is soon to publish a work, which 
will be the completest on the subject, to the aid of which the 
Government has advanced twenty thousand francs. I was walk- 
ing leisurely about, absorbing as much as possible of the joyous- 
ness, that was overflowing and running to waste everywhere, 
when accidentally I met him. He inquired, " if I intended to 
dance." My answer was, " I did ; for a physician is not per- 
mitted to enjoy a rational pleasure in America ; and I must seize 
the few dancing moments that are left me." " Come," said he, 
" I am looking for the extravagances ;" and we found them 
easily, you may be sure. In one place a mulatto girl was floating 
in the waltz and polka with her Caucasian lover ; and many a 
fair spectator would have assumed her yellow skin, could she 
have taken with it her fine silk dress and jaunty hat. An ample 
heel proved not the least impediment to superior waltzing. A 
young girl, in another quarter, herself without attractions, con- 
trived to draw a crowd around the set where she was pirouet- 
ting, by the peculiar way she had of showing a fat, and not 

particularly taper hose distender, for it just occurs to me, 

that American women have no legs. "Ah," says M. Coste, "the 
human specimen, in a state of perfect development, is a strange 
animal." For a moment, I fancied myself listening to his lec- 
ture at the college ; but glancing at the speaker, and then at the 
surrounding audience, I was quickly reassured ; the great lecturer 
and the learned sage femmes vanished ; M. Coste and the beau- 
tiful grisettes happily reappeared, and the scene became brighter 
than ever for the shadow, that had passed. A little farther on, 
we found a throng applauding a young fellow, who, in the midst 
of the dance, was turning somersets, rolling wheels, and perform- 



FOURIERITES. 311 



ing similar absurdities, without losing a note of the music. In 
another portion of these elegant gardens were the Montagues de 
Russe. This is an inclined plane, elevated to the height of an 
ordinary three-story house, on which several railways were sunk. 
Ascending to the summit by winding-stairs, for five sous one may 
enter and go down the railway in a little chariot. From the 
steepness of the descent at the commencement, the velocity is 
very considerable. The wheels of the vehicle are checked at the 
end of the course by running into loose sand, and thus it is 
stopped. No danger can arise in enjoying this miniature ava- 
lanche, for a leather band confines the rider to the coach, and the 
sides, raised some eight inches, are nearly on a level with the 
small wheels ; nevertheless, there is plenty of screaming among 
the fair adventurers. 

The organ of the Fourierites in France is the newspaper, La 
Democratie Pacifique. In the saloon attached to the editor's de- 
partment, there were assembled the other evening several of the 
most musical of the Phalansterians to hear some music composed 
by Mons. Prudent, one of the first Parisian piano players. He 
had sent his grand piano before, following it himself, as fast as a 
game-leg would allow ; and gave us a delicious treat. Mons. 
Bureau, the musical editor, apprized me of the entertainment, as 
he had of similar ones before. Another part of the evening's 
amusement was a recitation of his works by a poor poet. In his 
rough grey coat he contrasted strongly with the smooth, sleek, 
well-dressed gentlemen in white kid gloves around him. Being 
a fine reader, he succeeded, by the aid of a sonorous voice, in 
passing off some rather indifferent rhymes, as their nice dresses 
did his genteel critics, for all that they were worth, and a little 
more perhaps. This man gets his living by vending the works 
of the Fourierites, and procuring subscribers for this newspaper, 
selling occasionally a copy of his poetry, which is all clear gain. 
He is called the apostle of the Phalansterians, and his face gives 
indication of considerable talent. 

Having mentioned the name of Mons. Bureau, I must not omit 
to remark, how much he and his wife sympathized with Horace 
Greeley, of New York, on the burning of his office. His inter- 



312 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

esting family reminds me more of the United States than any- 
thing I have seen in France. Their history would adorn a tale, and 
is not entirely destitute of romance ; but my account shall be con- 
cise. He was a captain of artillery ; she a poor tailor's daughter. 
He was not handsome ; she quite pretty and graceful. He not 
rich ; she without a sou. If any one in the army marries, he is 
obliged to take a wife, who has a dot (dowry) equal to his rank, 
varying of course with his position. The private courts by sous ; 
the officer by francs ; there is a fixed price. Poor Mons. Bureau 
wished to marry the indigent working-girl. In doing this he for- 
feited his rank, espoused poverty, and now lives in more content- 
ment, than any Frenchman I have ever seen. He does not pass, 
like them, all his days within a cafe ; his home is too enticing. 
There he is surrounded with a charming educated wife, and three 
smiling boys and girls, precisely at the age when they are most 
pleasing. Madame occupied herself in putting them to bed one 
night, soon after my arrival, and the whole operation was so 
vividly home-like, that it went directly to my heart, and the 
memory of it warms it still. « 

I frequently spend a portion of an evening there, and read to 
her from Thiers' French Revolution, while she corrects my pro- 
nunciation. Once she consumed some time in trying to teach me 
the euphony of the word usurpateur; after all, it was left as an 
exercise for the next visit. When the throat gets husky, I give 
her, in return, a lesson in the polka, which she is anxious to ac- 
quire ; and I have actually received compliments at a small party 
for the proficiency of my graceful pupil. She is naturally so 
gentille, and the messieurs so accustomed to applaud her waltzing, 
that they do it more, perhaps, from habit. Never mind. Mr. B. 
comes home in time to play for us. Then Mons. S. and his silent 
wife are frequent visitors. She is from the nobility, and gave her 
hand and purse to obtain the fine countenance and superior tal- 
ents of her husband. 

Just hear him talk of the garde nationale — the militia of the 
kingdom. He was formerly an officer of the army under Napo- 
leon ; but now a militia private ; and his commanding officer is 
a butcher. Every inhabitant, who has any property to protect, 



MONS. BUREAU AND FAMILY. 313 

is included in this corps, whose duties are no amusement. 
Clerks and all subordinates are excluded. It numbers in the city 
of Paris 55,000 men, splendidly equipped, and by frequent drills 
exceedingly effective. They are bound to fight, not for their 
" sacred honor," but solely for their " lives and fortunes." Every 
member, if not sick, at certain intervals, once in two months, per- 
haps, must don his uniform, shoulder his musket, and give the 
day to the service of his king and country. The man of ease or 
science— -the poet, too, if one can be found, who possesses any 
property rights to secure, but those of copy — is forced to spend 
twelve hours of the day, warm or cold, wet or dry, marching 
and countermarching ; eyes, now right, now left. Should busi- 
ness render it desirable, instead of these, his all-powerful com- 
mander may assign him, as a matter of favor, the agreeable 
duties of mounting guard and making the night patrols. There 
is no excuse whatever ; he must go ; the only privilege ever 
granted is an absence of three or four hours, on applica- 
tion to —the butcher! I have often, when attending the 

lectures of Ricord, Dubois, and Sechel, seen them in their uni- 
forms, presenting a ridiculous contrast to their usual dress and 
duties. But, as you can't hear Monsieur's laughable exposition 
of the benefits of the garde nationale, listen to the beautiful 
song which Mons. Bureau is performing, and you will hear his 
words vocalized. It is called Le Roitelet ; and the singer is 
giving you his own music. (This song will soon be published by 
Atwill, 201 Broadway, with English and French words, in his 
" Beauties of the Opera.") Mons. B. has composed and pub- 
lished many very sweet songs and waltzes. They are superior in 
my estimation to the generality of French romances, which seem to 
depend for their interest entirely upon the words, as the music is 
quite common-place. 

Much of my happiness here springs from these charming 
people, whose kindness has greatly endeared them to me. I 
cannot give them fame, I know; but it is a pleasure to ex- 
press my gratitude in these letters, some of which Madame B. 
has read, and say that the memory of the family, in whose bosom 
18* 



314 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

I am welcomed, is a pressed flower, destined to be one of the 
sweetest souvenirs of my European visit. 

The myriads of strangers, attracted to this city, are really mar- 
velous. Not many evenings since, I chanced to have a seat at 
the Opera Comique by the side of a Swede of considerable intel- 
ligence, who spoke English with much fluency and ease. One 
cannot long converse with a countryman of Frederika Bremer, 
without mentioning a name, which, as a sort of middle term, 
makes mutual acquaintance of all her readers in the most distant 
lands. Such is the power of intellect and goodness in union with 
truth and nature, to draw unknown individuals, and even nations, 
towards each other. " Your translations," he asked ; " from what 
language are they made ? from the original ?" I replied, " that 
I believed, they were almost wholly from the German ; for I had 
a doubt, if there were a dozen persons in the Union, competent 
to translate a Swedish work at the period of the first publication 
of her interesting tales." " Ah," he answered, " I think they 
are not so rare, for I myself knew one of your countrymen at 
Stockholm, who was a very talented man, and so beautifully 
translated the exquisite Children of the Lord's Supper by Bishop 
Tegner. I have seldom seen better versions than those executed 
by Professor Longfellow. Ah, if he would translate the writings 
of Frederika, she would then obtain that credit in America, to 
which her works entitle her ; at least it may not be too much to 
hope, that he might superintend one." "I should regret 
extremely," I rejoined, "that he should devote his time to the 
labor of translation, for we are in the constant hope of another 
work from him, sparkling with fresh gems of beauty, such as 
those so lavishly strewn in his exquisite Hyperion, which has a 
charm, like that of the Opera we are now witnessing, La Syrlne, 
one of Auber's best." 

At the extreme end of the garden of the Luxembourg, cross- 
ing the space, where the brave, though unfortunate Marshal Ney 
was shot in 1815, one comes to the Observatory, erected in 1672, 
in most respects after the designs of the celebrated astronomer, 
John Dominic de Cassini, who was summoned from Bologna for 



MONS ARAGO. 315 



the purpose. The edifice is entirely of stone, neither wood nor 
iron entering at all into its construction. During later years, 
this building proving inconvenient, the astronomical observations 
have been made in one near it of smaller dimensions. In this is 
the meridian line, by which all French calculations are made. On 
the first floor of the main structure is a telescope twenty-two feet 
in length and twenty-two inches in diameter, which is however 
not now used. In this building are many other instruments of 
ancient and modern manufacture. Here is a Bureau des Lon- 
gitudes, consisting of two geometricians, four astronomers, two 
navigators, and one geographer, with numerous assistants, who 
hold weekly meetings, and present an annual report to the king, 
which is published. 

This edifice contains one of the most beautiful amphitheatres 
in the city, which is used for a lecture room by the renowned 
Arago, one of whose elementary works has recently been edited 
by Dr. Lardner, and published in New York. Eight hundred 
persons can be accommodated in this hall ; and so eager is the de- 
sire to hear him, that it is filled with beautiful ladies and wise 
men long before the hour of commencing. The room is embel- 
lished with fine statues in marble of Newton and Herschel ; busts 
of La Place and others ; a painting of an appropriate allegory 
adorns the ceiling. The entrance of the philosopher was greeted 
with demonstrations of pleasure and honor, which are indeed the 
usual compliment to the popular lecturers in the various academies 
and schools. He is of large stature, and five feet ten or eleven 
inches in height. His head is bald upon the top, and elsewhere 
covered with long gray hair ; and his capacious face betrays the 
vestiges of some sixty-five winters. All his features are large 
and coarse, and his black and sparkling eyes, which constitute 
the best feature he possesses, are overshadowed, and nearly 
buried, beneath shaggy brows covered with hair, once black, but 
now thick-sprinkled with autumnal frosts. His mouth would be 
remarkable, were it only for its uncommon size ; but it absolutely 
engrosses the attention, as soon as it is observed how wonder- 
fully it varies, and adapts its shape to every word that is uttered, 
displaying teeth yellow and mummified by years. No hair is 



316 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

suffered to remain upon his cheeks. In point of dress one might 
be tempted to call it slouchy, could such an epithet be thought 
of in connection with so distinguished a personage. His clothes 
are black, but have not any of the spruce, attractive look, that 
sometimes divests a widow's weeds of all their woe, and almost 
all their sadness. Those, on the contrary, of the great astrono- 
mer have an air of sincere sorrow ; and, as there was no especial 
reason for it, probably it was for being no better than they were. 
This uncourtly toilet is rendered more conspicuous by his white 
cravat. 

As a lecturer, M. Arago is plain and distinct in his articulation 
and explanations, so that even while calculating the distances 
of the moon and sun from the earth, he was so perspicuous, that 
a child could follow him with ease. In the first portion of his 
lecture, which was concerning winds and storms, his frequent ci- 
tations of experiments made in the United States brought to my 
mind Professor Espy again lecturing at Harvard College ; where 
the numerous collegians, who attended his course, complimented 
him by coming to a man, with open umbrellas over their heads. 
M. Arago, in common with the French generally, employs much 
gesticulation ; and his performance, interspersed with frequent 
amusing allusions, elicited often repeated applause during its con- 
tinuance of two hours. 

The weather in Paris has been extremely unpleasant, generally 
cold with constantly recurring showers. Occasionally a day quite 
warm, by inducing a removal of some portion of one's clothing, 
exposes him to take cold from the chill, which is certain to suc- 
ceed. The French assert, they never knew such unpleasant 
weather at this season ; but the American residents affirm, that 
last year was just the same. The probability is, that very few 
of either have known what kind of weather it was any day they 
ever lived, and if they did, forgot it in a week. 



XLVI. 

HOPITAL DE BlCETRE, AND ITS OCCUPANTS — THE MORGUE. 

Half a league from the barrier D'ltalie is the Hopital de Bice- 
tre, one of the most interesting of all the charities, with which Paris 
is adorned. The first building on this spot was the chateau, 
erected by John, bishop of Wincester, in 1204, and thence called 
after him Wincestre, which, twice altered in the lapse of ages to 
Bichestre, and Bicester, at length assumed the name of Bicetre, 
by which it is now known. In 1632, Louis XIII. bought it, and 
and established there a military hospital for invalids. Louis XIV. 
annexed it to the Hopital de la Salpetrihre ; and it is now in all 
respects a similar establishment, except that it is entirely devoted 
to males, as the other is to females. It is an immense range 
bearing the scars of antiquity, though well preserved. In an 
architectural view, it is not so striking as the Salpetriere, for it 
wants its grand church dome rising majestically from the centre 
of masses, which appear to be one entire structure. 

This building is divided into five departments. First, the re- 
posans, who are the servants of the various hospitals of the city. 
At a certain age they withdraw to this retirement, where a com- 
fortable home is afforded them during the residue of their fives. 
Then come the infirm, who are at least eighty years of age — the 
oldest in the house having reached ninety-seven years. Persons, 
who have turned their three score years and ten, compose the 
third department. The fourth consists of the infirm poor, and 
those of all ages, who are infected with an incurable disease. A 
melancholy miscellany of insane, idiots, cretins and epileptics, 
constitutes the fifth and last department. The first four depart- 
ments number four thousand persons ; the fifth alone nearly nine 

317 



318 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

hundred. The air of comfort, which surrounds these aged men, is 
grateful to a lover of humanity. There they are, with their locks 
of silver, seated around the courts and gardens, contented and 
happy, chatting together ; or, if still pretty strong, pursuing the 
avocations of former days, and selling to visitors the products of 
the industry which amuses them ; such as carved work, cocoa 
rings for napkins, pin-cases, little boxes, and other things. I 
noticed the table of one division set for dinner ; and the pewter 
service, brilliant as silver, proved the care and neatness that per- 
vaded their domestic economy. Four hundred persons sat at 
this board. The individual daily allowance is a portion of soup ; 
one and a quarter pounds of bread, white and good, four ounces 
of meat for dinner, accompanied with some vegetable, a dessert 
of cheese, and a quarter of a pint of wine. To those over seventy 
years of age the quantity of wine is doubled ; while they who 
have been thirty years in the house, receive a double allowance 
of everything. The cost of each is about eighteen cents a day, 
and the whole annual expense, one hundred and eighty thousand 
dollars. There are no private dormitories, but from twenty to a 
hundred sleep in a single room. "When sick, they are transferred 
to the hospital, and receive every requisite attention. 

It is the fifth division, however, that demands our deepest 
sympathies. Poor creatures ! sunk below the level of humanity, 
wanting the faculty of reason, yet without possessing instinct, 
its substitute in brutes, they form the saddest spectacle, that can 
be presented to human eyes. Tenderly should they be cherished 
by human hearts. And well has that obligation been here re- 
deemed. How soothing it is, even to the ordinary feelings of our 
nature, to behold the humane attention which is paid to them, 
though subject, as many are, to the most filthy and disgusting 
habits ! Their dormitory is perfectly pure, and free from the 
least odor ; the waxed floor reflects the face of the visitor ; and 
the beds are scrupulously clean and neat. This ward is a model 
for all similar ones, that I have ever seen. The most faithful and 
unremitting labor alone could have accomplished this herculean 
task. The buildings appropriated to the lunatics are long and low, 
rising to a single story only. The most strenuous exertions ar© 



LABOR, THE BEST PHYSIC. 319 

used to sustain them in complete order. The oaken floors of 
palaces cannot surpass the brilliancy of the daily waxed floors of 
these cells. Their food is little better than that of the other ten- 
ants of the hospital. I thought it strange that wine, which has 
more or less effect on the head even of a sane man, should be 
served to them at the rate of half a bottle a day — sufficient surely 
to plant 

" A dagger in the heat-oppressed brain." 

The patients are distributed into three divisions, each under 
the charge of a separate physician, who has nothing to say in 
regard to the treatment of the others. This distribution has no 
reference to distinction in the maladies of the patients. Each of 
these primary divisions is subdivided into three others with respect 
to their degree of tranquillity. Among the notabilities is an Albino, 
said to be eighty years of age. He is exceedingly active, and a 
living proof that this peculiar people are not necessarily short- 
lived. 

The curative efforts vary from those in all other lunatic estab- 
lishments in the city. Every motive is used to induce the 
patient to employ himself on something of his own free will. Many 
are consequently engaged in regular labor ; some making hats 
of straw, others fancy baskets, and the like. In connection with 
the institution is a farm, where numbers are employed with dis- 
tinguished advantage to the crops and their own health. There 
is an establishment upon it for the raising and fattening of swine, 
where every operation is performed by these invalids, in preparing 
them for the market, down to the moment of their quitting the 
yard, dressed and quartered. But this particular department I 
did not see. Some of the patients, whose health or tastes give 
them a preference for other employments, are provided with such 
as suit them. 

Among the various means adopted for their improvement is the 
establishment of schools. The patients generally belong to the 
lower orders, which in France and through Europe indeed, are 
lamentably ignorant. Few know even how to read and write, 
which of course become the principal branches of instruction. 



320 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

There have been some, though none are here at present, who 
have prosecuted more advanced studies. The walls of the school 
room are embellished with pictures drawn with a pen, like those 
which decorate the writing academies, so numerous in every 
city in America, to which oil paintings and other ornaments are 
added. This treatment, I am told, succeeds beyond expectation ; 
but I do not know what was expected. 

One ward is appropriated to those, whose minds habitually 
brood over plans of murder and arson ; some were pointed out, 
who had killed a mother and a sister, and one who had murdered 
two men in a diligence. The friend who accompanied me began 
to ogle the door. The guardian, however, re-assured him by 
stating, that no attempt ever was made on the safety of visitors, 
nor even of the medical attendant, in his diurnal round, for they 
regarded them as beings endued with superior power, whom it 
would be idle to attack. It was the guardian himself, who was 
the object of all their persecution and vengeance. But on glancing 
at his muscular frame, I felt quite at ease on the score of his 
security. Yet notwithstanding his commanding presence, he 
frequently receives blows from their fists and wooden shoes. You 
must not suppose, however, that his strength is used in contend- 
ing with his patients ; it is, on the contrary, merely employed for 
their necessary restraint. In no lunatic asylum is a patient per- 
mitted to be struck. 

There are not many objects of general interest connected with 
this establishment. A well of prodigious dimensions may, how- 
ever be considered as one ; said to be five hundred feet in depth, 
and fifteen feet in diameter. This statement seems extravagant ; 
yet it is certainly immense ; for the sound of water thrown into 
the awful abyss, requires a great length of time for its passage 
to the surface. It is worked by machinery, propelled by twenty- 
four insane men, and is but little used, as an aqueduct from the 
river now supplies the hospital with water. 

Near the Pont St. Michel is situated a structure, which attracts 
the notice of every stranger visiting the city, in consequence of 
the publications of travelers ; and yet it is a building possessing 
no interest in itself. Composed of stone, without pretension; 



THE MORGUE. 321 



plain, and even insignificant ; without a sign or flag, or anything 
else to distinguish it, every body would be in danger of overlook- 
ing one of the most extraordinary places in Paris, were it not for 
the number of people seen constantly entering, and soon return- 
ing from the enclosure. Following the multitude to-day, I enter- 
ed a small room, divided into two parts by a glass partition, to 
which the company is prevented from making too near an ap- 
proach by an iron railing. The crowd of dirty blouses, charcoal- 
men, washer-women, and hucksters of all sorts, is so great, that 
we are kept for some time at a little distance. A quantity of 
clothes is hanging on nails around the apartment ; such as are 
near are of poor quality, an old cap, and the well worn garments 
of a man, having the appearance of being rough-dried, wrinkled, 
and much soiled. Beyond these, in the middle, hangs the ap- 
parel of a woman ; — a pretty, open worked straw bonnet with a 
neat riband, a crape shawl, a dress of white cambric and body 
linen of fine texture ; from all which the water is dripping. 
Still farther on, are male garments of costly materials, dabbled 
with blood. 

The enormous straw hat, which has obstructed our view for a 
long time, is now attempting to retire, and we can begin to see 
through the glass — " Oh, horrors !" said my fair companion, 
" what an awful sight is this ! 'Tis the Morgue ! — the dreadful 
spot which I have shuddered to think of, and never wished to 
see. — Oh, let us go." I had seen enough myself, though a con- 
templation of so many hospitals, museums of anatomy and abat- 
toirs had given me nerve, and I was not so easily disturbed, as 
my pale-faced friend ; so we went out. Iron frames supporting 
inclined boards to the number of eight or ten were arranged 
round the room, into which we had looked. On these, directly 
underneath the collections of clothes, were outstretched the bod- 
ies of their wearers, stripped naked, with the exception of a slight 
covering of small size about the loins. Of these unfortunates, 
after inquiry, I obtained the following account. 

The character of the first might be read without much diffi- 
culty in his red and bloated face, bearing indelible traces of the 
ravages of strong drink. He had been drawn from the Seine, 



322 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

into which he had thrown himself, or unintentionally fallen. 
The body had evidently remained some days in the river, and 
becoming thus putrescent, a constant shower of water was pro- 
jected upon it from a cock, which was fixed above, as well as 
all the other inclined frames. The owner of the feminine ap- 
parel was a girl of twenty-two years, and more than commonly 
handsome. Her delicate features were as white as marble, 
contrasting strongly with her hair of jetty black, which fell in 
deranged, but luxuriant masses upon her beautiful shoulders and 
naked breasts. She had just been taken from the water, and 
there she lay in such sweet repose, that, but for the associa- 
tions of the place, one might have imagined her a Nereid in 
placid slumber. The morning papers gave her name and his- 
tory. She was not a goddess, but only a poor grisette, who 
yarned a meagre subsistence by daily labor. She was employed 
in a shop to sell goods, and had lived in pleasant harmony with 
a young clerk in the same establishment many years. But lat- 
terly, it seems, he felt her charms to be less attractive, and, grow- 
ing tired of her society, he had fomented a dispute on purpose to 
effect a separation ; and so he left her to seek another companion. 
The poor girl, however, being not gifted with the same selfish 
facility, or heartless infidelity, found herself unable to support 
the estrangement, and sought a reconciliation. But in vain. Her 
false lover had accomplished his object, and, thus abandoned, 
she felt that the only way 

"To bring repentance to her lover, 
And wring his heart-strings, was to die." 

A leap from the Pont JYeuf, where the swift Seine runs most 
rapidly, and all was over. 

The other body was a Spaniard from the "West Indies. A 
long purse in Paris very shortly exhibits to view the terrible 
epitaph : 

" Mene, Tekel, Upharsin." 
but when the gambler puts his fingers into it, the catastrophe is 
too sudden to admit any premonition. Constant losses had 
nearly exhausted the ample funds of this unhappy youth, when 



THE GAMBLER r S FATE. 323 

one day, in the private apartment of a cafe, the report of a 
pistol was heard, and he was instantly found entirely dead, hav- 
ing his head shockingly mangled by this awful act of self-de- 
struction. 

To this building are conveyed the bodies of unknown persons, 
who meet with accidental or violent deaths. If not claimed by 
any friend, they remain three days, and then are interred at the 
public expense. The number thus annually brought is about 
three hundred, of which one-sixth only are females. 



XLVII. 

Royal Lunatic Hospital — Dr. Foville — Price of Board — Treatment 
— Curious Practice in a part of France — Pyramidal Heads — Flat 
Heads — Blockheads — III Treatment of Infants — New Jersey Hos- 
pital for the Insane — Departure from Paris. 

Yesterday morning I heard a lecture on Insanity at La Sal- 
petrikre, and this morning I went to the great Royal Lunatic 
Hospital at Charenton, about seven miles from Paris. By means 
of the omnibuses and early rising, I got there at nine a. m., and 
attended the visit of the physician, the celebrated Dr. Foville. 
This institution was founded in 1644 by the minister Sebastian 
Leblanc ; subsequently converted to a boarding house by the 
Brothers of Charity, for the care of lunacy, and in 1*797 changed 
again to a government establishment. It is most beautifully sit- 
uated on the summit of an eminence, which commands an excellent 
prospect of the city, the Seine and the country around, now in 
the pride of its glory. The bank of the river, and a small island, 
which is a dependence of the hospital, are covered with trees of 
various descriptions, of which poplar, maple, and horse chestnut 
are the most common and conspicuous. The poplar is not here 
the same miserable ragged runt as in the United States. In its 
native soil, uninjured by the mild winters, it towers aloft a very 
handsome ornament to the landscape. It is said, with how much 
truth I cannot vouch, that those in America are all of the same 
sex, and reproduced by offsets mostly ; and that, even when 
springing from the seed, like the races of mankind, they have 
deteriorated from want of " crossing," so essential among animals 
to the raising of a vigorous and healthy offspring. 

The edifice itself, though but partially built, is a pattern of the 
kind. Some years ago a bill passed the Chamber of Deputies 
324 



GREAT UTILITY OF BOWS. 325 

appropriating one million of dollars to its construction. More 
than one half has been finished at a cost of six hundred thousand 
dollars, which completes the accommodations for males ; the fe- 
males are still in the old building, soon destined to give place to 
one in correspondence with the male department. Dr. Foville, 
the physician, resides in the city, and makes four visits to the pa- 
tients every week. There are a resident physician and apothe- 
cary beside, who have the charge in the meantime. Few men 
are better qualified than Dr. F., for the care of such an institu- 
tion. An uncommon union of suitable qualities renders his su- 
periority evident. In person he is of good size, and endowed 
with strong athletic powers. His countenance has a peculiar ex- 
pression of gentleness, decision and reflection. Were we to 
notice his voice alone, so particularly sweet, soft and winning, 
we should be disposed to characterize him as a good-natured 
man, but deficient in firmness ; but when one remarks his treat- 
ment of the patients, and his general conduct, it is easy to recog- 
nize his possession of that resolute determination, so indispensa- 
ble to his office. In no situation perhaps are the scrapes and 
conges of a Frenchman so productive of real good, as in the man- 
agement of the insane ; the angry passions of the furious are 
calmed and softened by the deference which such manners habit- 
ually display. In going his rounds the doctor had some ten or 
twelve hundred bows to execute in the space of three hours. 
Thus polite to the patients, he certainly was not less so to my- 
self and friend — Dr. Selden, of Norfolk, Virginia ; — and from this 
visit we bore away with us not only a knowledge of the construc- 
tion of the building — erected after the plan of the distinguished 
Esquirol — the method of classification and treatment of the pa- 
tients ; but many hints and ideas of value, which he communica- 
ted. As the feelings of patients might be sometimes injured by 
hearing observations made respecting them, he chiefly spoke in 
English, which he had at perfect command. 

The patients are of three classes, who pay respectively thir- 
teen hundred, nine hundred and seventy-five, and six hundred and 
fifty francs a year, including washing. Fuel, private servants, 
and incidentals swell that amount of course. The rooms, which 
19 



326 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 



those of the highest class occupy, are really very fine. They 
have a charming aspect, commanding the delightful view before 
alluded to, and are handsomely supplied with mirrors, clocks and 
other furniture. During the periods of exacerbation, no distinc- 
tion is maintained in the classes ; they are removed at once 
from their rooms to another department, where their noise would 
be heard only by those as furious as themselves. In the treat- 
ment of the patients, very little, if any, medicine is given ; opiates 
and sedatives with extreme rarity. The cold douche is not an 
uncommon means of soothing the excited state into which they 
frequently relapse. The doctor in speaking of it expressed his 
opinion, that it was a remedy of great power, but — -should be 
used with extraordinary care, and by no means so indiscriminate- 
ly, as it is frequently done. Cold baths, and sponging the body 
with cold water, are often employed. As a means of confinement, 
the strait jacket is the principal. A treatment of kindness is 
now generally adopted throughout the world ; rarely indeed do 
we hear at this day of murders or other outrages perpetrated by 
the insane. Take a sane person, plunge him in a dungeon, en- 
veloped in filth and exposed to the inclemencies of the weather, 
load him with irons, throw him his victuals, as you would toss 
bones to a dog, and it would not be very marvelous if he should 
revenge his wrongs sometimes by deeds of violence as startling 
as any that have ever been committed by the crazy man. An 
instance of the powerful operation of kindness, on a disordered 
intellect is furnished in a young girl, not wanting grace or beau- 
ty, who in another institution killed two of her fellow-patients. 
She is calm and rational here, and needs only kind words and 
gentle management to render her, what she has become, an 
aoreeable tenant of an apartment adorned in a style of costly 
luxury. 

In this institution there is less apparent confinement, than in 
any similar one, that I have ever seen. The windows have none 
of those horrid looking iron bars, which characterise a prison. A 
grating of wire, nearly the size of a pipe stem, seemed designed 
more for the protection of the glass, than the security of a cap- 
tive prisoner. The doors were open with few exceptions, and 



LECTURE ON HEADS. 327 

their clothes were in their rooms, so that they could take them, 
when they wished to promenade in the court below. Though 
*>ne hundred and eighty persons were attached to the establish- 
ment having the care of the patients solely, without including 
the private servants, there was no symptom of surveillance. As 
a peculiarity in the practice of Dr. F., I noticed that he made no 
concealment of their malady, but conversed with them on the 
subject, as he would have done of any bodily disease. This I 
think much better, than the subterfuge and evasion so commonly 
resorted to for the concealment of the patient's complaint, which 
is sure, sooner or later to be discovered by him ; and information, 
thus obtained, is likely to be productive of much detriment to the 
patient. 

As we went round the long galleries, Dr. Foville pointed out 
to us several persons, whose heads were of a very peculiar form, 
more or less perfectly approaching the pyramidal ; the face might 
represent the base, and the occiput the apex. Their foreheads 
were particularly flat and narrow. In reference to them he re- 
marked, that this species of head was peculiar to a particular 
department of France, in the same manner as the flat-heads of th« 
Indians are peculiar to one tribe. In this district more children 
die at an early age than in any other ; the diseases being princi- 
pally convulsions and other maladies, which depend on the health 
of the brain. More insane come from this, than from any other 
quarter of the kingdom, in proportion to the population; and 
finally, more cases of idiocy, epilepsy, and the like, than elsewhere 
What is the cause ? Evidently the peculiar shape of the head, 
which pervades the people of that whole region, who all partici- 
pate in this deformity, in a greater or less degree, without a single 
exception. So universal is it indeed, that some painters and 
sculptors, regarding it as the natural head of man, have drawn 
from this source their beau-ideal of beauty ; and fixed upon the 
sloping shoulders of their Yenuses and Apollos, heads gracefully 
rising in tapering pyramids. 

An investigation of this extraordinary phenomenon has been 
made, and the cause discovered. The Flat-Head Indians are 
known to alter the form of their infants' heads by pressure on 



328 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

the skull, when its bones are in a more or less cartilaginous state, 
and not yet firmly united. From this fact it was suspected, that 
some such prank was practised on these children of France ; and, 
sure enough, it has been found, that mothers and nurses have 
been employed for centuries in the wholesale business of driving 
mad, maiming, and murdering the children of a particular district. 
This enormity has been committed by putting a peculiar cap upon 
the heads of their tender offspring, and fastening it tightly there 
by means of a strong band ; and this simple cord has killed its 
hundreds, and diseased an entire region! With the Flat-Head 
Indians the pressure is in another direction, and may affect the 
intellect, while the nutritive organs are unimpaired. Dr. Foville 
mentions an autopsis made on one of these countrywomen, who 
had the venous circulation so impeded, that a large plexus was 
formed, for the accommodation of which a deep cavity was sunk 
in one of the lobes of the brain. So that from the silly ambition 
of improving the beautiful proportions of nature, men have suc- 
ceeded in producing the valuable varieties of pyramidal-heads, 
fiat-heads, and block-heads. In the meantime, the other sex have 
not been idle; but their abilities, it is well known, have been 
principally displayed, at least of late, at the other end of the 
human specimen. 

And now what is the use of such a narration, which is not to 
be read by medical men ? It appears to me, I confess, though 
probably in pure simplicity, to enclose the kernel of something 
capable of a friiitful application. In Yankee land the head is not 
thus hooped ; the fact is granted ; but — the body — is the body 
free to grow, as God designed it? The swath bound tightly 
round the body of the infant — does that do nothing ? Are the 
internal organs left to their perfect development ? Is the pres- 
sure on the liver nothing ? How often do the helpless creatures 
vomit the healthy nourishment they swallowed just before ! May 
not that be caused by pressure on the stomach ? I have seen the 
liver of a woman marked with a deep furrow, plowed by the 
screw of the corset ; cannot a similar mark be seen in the liver 
of a young child ? Should any one deem these interrogatories 
foolish, pray do not impute the folly to Dr. Foville ; he is entire- 



HOSPITAL AT CHARENTON. 329 

ly innocent, for they are none of his. One thing is certain — no 
injury can be done by guarding against tight bandages on the 
flexible, half-ossified body of the young child. 

The patients are resolved into three classes ; the most turbulent, 
the comparatively quiet, and the convalescent. There are also 
rooms, where some in intermediate stages are temporarily placed 
on trial. One young man from the West India Islands, entirely 
nude, was bouncing about a room, whose floor was covered with 
straw. He was a recent inmate. In another was a man, who 
came from the country to bring a neighbor just attacked. He 
was returning homeward with his companion in a state of exces- 
sive excitability ; but before he reached his house was seized 
himself in a similar way, and the same manacles, which he had 
put upon his friend, were fastened on himself. 

Notwithstanding the excellent accommodations, which are 
here afforded ; the healthy situation of the hospital ; its real 
beauty, with the high reputation of its physician, I was informed, 
that few of the nobility or rich bourgeois were sent hither, but 
that private establishments were preferred, where high charges 
were thought to guaranty superior care and attention. For my- 
self I must acknowledge, that I never saw in any similar institu- 
tion so many advantages combined. Of the beauty of the 
situation I cannot say too much, though at the hazard of frequent 
repetition ; it is indeed unrivalled, and with the sanguine aspira- 
tions of a life just commencing, I can say from my heart, that 
here I should be extremely happy to spend my days. 

The accommodations are now sufficient for five hundred and 
fifty patients ; the future buildings will in some degree enlarge 
them ; beside, one wing, having been recently finished, is not yet 
occupied. I observe by your Daily Advertiser, that New Jersey 
intends shortly to build an Insane Hospital within her borders. 
Let not, I pray, the Hospital at Charenton, constructed from the 
plan of the greatest man, who has ever been engaged in the treat- 
ment of these unfortunates, be overlooked or disregarded. At 
any rate whatever else is neglected, it is to be hoped, that the 
form of this edifice will be adopted — a building of a single story. 
This will necessarily occupy a greater extent of ground ; but it 
19* 



330 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

will create numerous courts between its walls, allowing free ex- 
ercise to the patients in apparent liberty under the trees, which 
should be planted there. To crown the enterprise with success, 
may the State be so fortunate as to secure for a superintendent a 
learned and gentlemanly — in short another Dr. Foville ! With- 
out a competent physician, the State will, after all, have only 
turned some thousands of dollars into stone and mortar. 

This is my last letter from Paris, which I leave with emotions of 
sadness, in two hours for London, through Holland and Belgium,, 
by Switzerland and the Rhine. A month or more probably will 
be consumed upon the way, of which I will attempt some hurried 
sketches taken on the wing. 

And now I must take a reluctant leave of thee, ma belle 
France. I did not think, when I came among thy people eight 
short months ago, alone and friendless, that it would ever give 
me such a pang to part. But they have twisted themselves 
around and within my heart, and I have begun, I feel, to shoot 
out radicles of affection, which are fast rooting me to thy beauti- 
ful country. Farewell to the land of the apple, the grape, and 
the olive. For these, and thy mild skies, thou hast a name, and 
others may admire thee. But I love thee for thy great and 
famous men, thy refined and lovely women, and the many dear 
friends, that I have no sooner found, than I must lose forever. 
Alas, that is a melancholy word to say, and wraps up a serious 
and momentous thought. Yes — we shall never meet again. The 
scenes in which we have mingled with such delight the past few 
bright months, will be repeated here another year : but we shall 
no more see them together. In two hours I depart in the 
diligence for Geneva, and shall travel several days and nights, 
without intermission but for the usual meals. Adieu, then ! my 
heart beats tumultuously for all, who have been so kind to me, 
and I try to articulate — Farewell ! 

" But wherefore could not I pronounce Farewell ? 
I had most cause to bless them, and yet Farewell 
Stuck in my throat." 

Paris exists to me now only in the memory. That city of the 
world, and all that it contains to captivate the antiquarian, or 



FAREWELL. 331 



philanthropist, the man of letters or of taste, has vanished, for 
aught I know, into some such stuff as dreams, or the bodiless 
spirits of the air, are made of. But the acquisitions I have made, 
and the pleasures I have enjoyed, I cannot be deprived of— they 
are yet mine. How great these are, it does not become me to 
assert; but it will not be deemed assuming to observe, that few 
days passed away, when nothing new or curious was seen. No 
grand celebrity scarcely has been omitted, of which I am aware, 
except the catacombs, and the tomb of Napoleon, now in the 
process of erection. The reasons assigned for refusing the admis- 
sion of the public to the former, are various ; the principal of 
which are, that their lives would be at hazard from a possible 
downfall of the roof ; and also, that gunpowder might be intro- 
duced underneath the city, and jeopard its safety, if not existence. 
Yet, though the pen may describe these wonders with more or 
less of vividness, it is a personal inspection only, which can set 
the living attributes of reality before you. Our country is so 
wanting in those things, of which Paris is so abundantly produc- 
tive, that a narrator is seriously embarrassed to find objects of 
comparison. 

Paris is left behind, and the friends I made there can never 
more be seen by me ; but while 1 live, their sensitive hearts, their 
sweet and fascinating manners, and their tears so freely shed at 
parting, will be nursed like tropic flowers in my warm memory, 
flinging their bright colors and perfume over many a wintry day, 
that will doubtless overtake me. In a world of perpetual change, 
absence, like death, will embalm these summer friendships, and 
preserve them forevermore the same. My worthy hostess, good 
soul, with a kindly disposition, but wayward as the wind, was 
at the starting place to see me off. She brought with her a bou- 
quet, composed of a rose bud surrounded by forget-me-nots — her 
own gift ; and another from her neighbor, which was a bunch of 
pensez-a-moi with a simple rose bud in the centre, enveloped in 
green leaves. I had also in my pocket a pretty purse, the handi- 
work of a dear friend given me just before I left my lodgings, as 
a gage d'amitie with a note accompanying it. Should modesty 
prevent my showing it to you, as a characteristic specimen of 



332 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 

the taste these graceful creatures throw around every act of life ? 
I think not. And so, premising the very flattering fact, that the 
less the truth, the greater the compliment, here it follows verba- 
tim: — 

" Souvenir de l'interet, que Mons. A. K. G. a su inspirer en France aux 

personnes, qui ont eu le plaisir de le connaitre. Anais D ." 

le 17 Juin, 45. 

We kissed one another a la Frangaise — on both cheeks, and be- 
tween — in the court yard ; and a tall, robust cavalry officer from 
Sardinia went through a similar evolution with a grenadier of 
Paris. The clock struck twelve — the conducteur gave breath to 
his horn — the postilion cracked his whip — the horses bounded 

forward — the Barriere de la Gare was passed, and we were 

hors de Paris. 






















o_ * 



i > . t • « ^-v < > 




-> 










A 



1°* 



.<£V 




A^ 







;• ^ 







* v .< 




4<3* 








W 







%/ 




^ 



"oV 1 









